


Love Is Indispensable

by Rice-Ball247 (Koibito247)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, ooc draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2693828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koibito247/pseuds/Rice-Ball247
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy didn’t know anything about love, Harry concluded. The reason as to why he was giving him a chance was beyond his own understanding, but now it seems that Draco is the one teaching Harry how to love. DMHP</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. 
> 
> old work
> 
> verses from 1 Corinthians 13:4 - Love is Indispensable

At first, Harry had thought someone had put one of Professor Sprout’s fuzzy, pink earmuffs over his ears. Then he dismissed the notion of having too much of the Weasley twins’ ‘instant earwax’ candy (it _did_ taste good, despite the name).

The temptation of believing that this was a practical joke was so great, Harry felt compelled to yell out ‘accio cameras!’. But no, instead, he settled for an expression of incredulousness, eyes rimmed with disbelief and mouth frowning with scepticism.

“I do,” the young man in front of him swore, face angry with frustration and hurt. “I do love you, Harry.”

It took all of his willpower to not shake his head and walk away. Instead, Harry stood his ground and sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair. Come on, this was _Draco Malfoy_ he was dealing with. If Draco suddenly came up to you and confessed his undying love and affections, how was one supposed to react? Scratch that – if Draco Malfoy came up to Harry Potter and confessed, what would _Harry_ do?

It seemed cruel, the thought of it, but Harry did not love Draco. Anyone operating under the misconception that he was in love with the Malfoy heir was a fool. Because despite everything that he’d been told about love, about its power and its everlastingness, Harry wasn’t going to allow himself to be lulled into a false sense of security. The Dark Lord, Voldemort, may have been eradicated from all aspects of existence, but Harry would be weary, always on guard.

After all, what would Draco Malfoy, son of ex-death eater, Lucius Malfoy, number one rival to Harry Potter and professional arsehole, know about love? Harry scoffed at the thought. Perish it. Damn the notion to hell. Draco Malfoy didn’t know anything about love, Harry concluded.

Yet the reason as to why he was giving him a chance was beyond his own understanding.


	2. Love is Patient

“Draco, hurry the hell up!” Harry grumbled as he waited for the other teen to catch up to him. Harry ran a hand through his hair, slightly frustrated that Draco wasn’t taking this seriously at all. This was supposed to be an outing with all their friends. Despite Draco still being at odds with Ron and Hermione, the other two had managed to tolerate his presence when he and Harry were together. But Harry could feel his patience already running thin – they had only been together for a mere week. Seven _days._

But you couldn’t blame Draco – he really was trying. Harry didn’t want to believe that he’d turned over a new leaf and started fresh. Harry didn’t want to believe that Draco really wasn’t the façade that had been building up over the past six years that they’d known each other. He didn’t want to believe that underneath it all, he and Draco were pretty much the same, but different in their own special ways.

And he definitely didn’t want to believe that Draco loved him. Why he’d accepted Draco in the first place, Harry did not know. The thought of Draco’s company and being able to talk civilly to one another actually made Harry feel a lot lighter, as if the weight that had been pressing down on him, where Draco was involved, was gone.

However, the proverbial road they walked along was rough, cracked with crevices and potholes. It was rocky and jagged, and walking hand in hand didn’t feel nice when said limbs were sweaty. Half the time, they were at each others’ throats, and _not_ in the pleasant way. Harry knew that from the start, Draco’s confession had only added another painful niche to his steadily cracking resolve and his patience was taking blow after blow with every argument they had.

The outing with Harry’s friends was slowly turning sour. The moment Harry and Draco had stepped foot into their area of the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, his friends had all quieted down. Harry ignored them as he took his place beside Ron, with Draco at his side. Compared to the other couples in their friendship group, Harry and Draco were, perhaps, the most distanced. Metaphorically, as well as literally speaking too. There was maybe enough space for someone else to sit between them, but no one dared. No one wanted to go near the big, bad Slytherin. Harry felt a touch of pity for the boy, but Draco didn’t seem to care. He sat there quietly, waiting for the time to pass.

Harry thought that it was all going well (well, in the sense that no one was arguing), except a wayward comment about Draco not deserving Harry had gotten out of hand and the blond had snapped. Now, Harry was angrily storming away with an apologetic Slytherin on his tail, pleading for him to come back.

“I’ve HAD it, Draco!” Harry started with a firm tone. He wanted to end this. It was driving him insane and he felt sluggish everyday that he knew he would meet Draco. Not even their catastrophic rivalry from their younger years felt as mundane and hesitant as now.

Draco faltered in his step and glanced at Harry in surprise. “What do you mean? What about us?”

Harry plucked his glasses from his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. He replaced his glasses and gave Draco a stern glare. “No. There isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. There wasn’t an ‘us’ to begin with, Draco! It was all a mistake from the very start. You don’t love me. I don’t have the patience for you. What would you know about love, Draco?” he spat bitterly.

There was a tense pause between them before Draco gave him a sorrowful smile and murmured, “Love is patient. Let’s start with that.”


	3. Love is Kind

Harry could feel an impending headache, induced from yet another argument with Draco about who knows what. They bickered over the slightest of petty things, from the smell of their cologne, to the way they styled their hair, to a bit of lint on the shoulder of Harry’s robes – the list could go on. Harry had finally managed to keep a check on his patience; yes, at times he lost it and snapped at Draco non-stop, no relationship was ever perfect, but he reminded himself that if he wasn’t at least going to try to make this work, then it would have all been a waste of time.  Draco was putting in the effort, so he should as well.

It had been another week since the disastrous outing; one week since Harry had given Draco his second chance, and two since Harry had somehow gotten himself into this troublesome situation. Every argument, every glare, every scathing remark had been adding up to one nasty week, and today, Sunday, Harry felt as if he were ready to break. Thrice, he had contemplated telling Draco, outright, that he wanted no part in this any longer, but thrice he’d shut himself up when Draco apologized immediately, or when a soothing cup of chamomile tea magicked its way into Harry’s hands.

He could feel the pressure in him building, however. He wasn’t sure he could be patient any longer, but he was trying, for both their sakes. Most of the time, Harry was tense. In potions class, he’d nearly failed this week’s course completely, landing himself in detention with his dour professor, Severus Snape, the potions master, for three nights straight. To top it off, a grumpy Harry meant he was snappish with everyone he encountered (imagine the disaster in detention itself) and had caused a near fallout with Ron over something completely trivial. Of course, the two had made up after an hour or two to cool off and were instant mates once again.

But Harry was tense and he did **not** feel like dealing with a certain blond right now. He just wanted to sleep. Or relax. The boy’s dorm wasn’t the ideal place for relaxing anymore, since, right this moment, he knew that Hermione and Ron were having a snog session on the red-head’s bed. And it was right next to Harry’s. The bloody Room of Requirement didn’t work today for some reason, so Harry had to make do with just sitting outside, under a tree by the lake, to calm down during his break.

The sounds of rustling in the bushes behind him alerted Harry to someone else’s presence. Harry rubbed his temples in a lame attempt to sooth himself just a tad bit before someone plopped themselves down beside him.

“Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?” came Draco’s hopeful voice. Oh, how Harry wished he could duct tape the blond and then cast a silencing spell on him! Immediately, he felt guilty for thinking that way and, in an attempt to make it up to Draco secretly, he decided to accept. When would he ever learn?

They sat in companionable silence before Draco spoke up once again. “Come here, Harry.”

Harry instantly shot him down with a glare that could kill. But Draco remained unaffected and spread his legs, patting the ground between them. Why did he go, Harry asked himself, but he ignored his inner voice and made his way in between Draco’s legs and sat with his back to him tensely. He almost shouted when Draco laced slender arms around his waist and pulled him backwards, against his chest, but he was silenced when he felt strong hands kneading into the painfully taut muscles of his shoulders, back and neck.

Despite himself, Harry allowed Draco the honour of hearing him moan with pleasure and delight as the blond worked some muggle magic into Harry’s body, soothing any knots of tension that hadn’t been unraveled and remained coiled up. By the time their break was over, Harry felt like he was a drooling puddle of lethargic mess. He felt no rush at all to get up and go to class, despite Draco’s warnings of being late.

“Why are you so nice, today?” Harry asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at Draco. The flaxen-haired male shrugged as he offered his hand out to Harry, who took it, and pulled him up.

“You’ve been tense all week and I can’t help but feel that I’m a huge contributor to your stress,” Draco finally said. Harry felt a stab of guilt prick his insides, especially when Draco glanced over his shoulder, and, again with that sad smile, said, “And after all, love is kind.”


	4. Love Does Not Envy

Another week had passed since Draco’s random act of kindness – it had now been three weeks since Draco and Harry had started dating. Harry started getting used to Draco being around him all the time, well the majority of it, anyway. Since their dorms were on opposite ends of the school, Draco and Harry would meet up at breakfast and would be almost inseparable from then on. Ron and Hermione felt slightly miffed that they were being set aside, but they understood Harry and supported him in every way possible. This also meant not chucking insults at his Slytherin boyfriend whenever possible, because usually, doing that caused a chasm between the two boys and Harry did not need the extra stress.

Sometimes, Harry would find himself surprised at seeing Draco waiting patiently outside the Gryffindor Common Room for him to walk him to the Great Hall for breakfast. The animosity between Gryffindor and Slytherin had almost petered out to merely healthy inter-house competitiveness, but there was still that lingering undercurrent of over hundreds of years of bickering and being on opposite ends, so to speak. Once Voldemort was gone, the supporters of the Dark Lord within Slytherin had disappeared with their families, except for a few well-known Slytherins, namely Draco and his posse. Well, ex-posse, considering he preferred even spending precious minutes waiting for Harry to leave Gryffindor Tower over bossing Crabbe and Goyle around.

But this week had been slightly different. Just as Harry finally got used to Draco being around, the blond’s presence had declined by the hour, and by the end of the week, Harry hadn’t seen Draco in nearly two whole days. He felt slightly irritated and, futilely telling himself that he wasn’t hurt, but he knew that even Draco had to have time to himself. Still…

Harry couldn’t help but feel a mixture of curiosity and anger when it came to Draco’s sudden disappearance. Where in the seven hells was he? Harry told himself that it should be alright that Draco was gone. He’d wanted this, right?

And then he heard it, a giggling voice and Draco’s soft chuckle, in tandem. Together. Harry successfully threw himself behind a large tapestry when Draco and Pansy Parkinson strolled past. He felt a surge of anger quickly wash over him as they stopped right outside of Harry’s hiding place and Draco gave the Slytherin girl a quick hug. This time, a surge of something else, something Harry was quite familiar with, yet was afraid to name, flooded him completely. He shut his eyes and looked away, as if that would burn away the image of Draco embracing another. Why should he care? This was so completely and utterly…STUPID! It took all of Harry’s willpower to not storm away that very second.

By the time Draco and Pansy had disappeared around another corner, Harry had finally remembered his scheduled date with Draco tomorrow, Sunday, at Hogsmeade. Suddenly, he felt the urge to chase after Draco and yell at him. Two-timing bastard?! He resisted this urge, however, and made his way back to Gryffindor Tower to sleep before tomorrow.

To his complete annoyance, Harry could not sleep. He tossed and he turned and flung sheets across the bed in his frustration, but he could not get a wink of sleep. The room was oddly silent and Harry suspected that Ron might have successfully cast a silencing spell, only on the whole room, before his daily wank. Then finally, in the early moments of Sunday morning, a restless Harry was too tired to remain restless and gratefully fell into deep sleep with arms wide open.

Someone shook him awake sometime before their due departure, most likely it was Ron, but the still-exhausted Harry had made his way down to the Entrance Hall in a groggy daze, despite the lateness of the day.

“Mate, it’s nearly noon. Everyone is about to leave,” Ron warned him, watching as Harry lethargically got out of bed and began his daily routine with a little damper on his mood. Ron wondered what could have possibly happened to make Harry this way. His expression was a little pinched and the usual glint in his eyes had dulled down from its brilliant lustre. It wasn’t hard to see the dark bags beneath Harry’s emerald-hued eyes, even though it was slightly hidden by the rims of his glasses.

Harry knew why he was feeling so glum. He knew and understood perfectly, why he felt like there was no point in getting up today, not even to see Draco. Briefly, as soon as that thought had crossed his mind, Harry wondered why he had put up with Draco in the first place, and then wonder, when had the resentment he felt towards the Malfoy fade out?

He didn’t feel like seeing Draco today – only because he felt his self-confidence slip when he thought of Draco and Pansy together. But they were just friends, right? Still, what if…

What if Draco’s absence for the majority of the week was because he was with Pansy? Doing questionable things? Harry grimaced at the thought and ignored the dull throb in his chest. It was probably just early morning heartburn.

He, Ron and Hermione, finally as a restored trio, made their way to the Entrance Hall together. In their circle of friends, yet another outing had been planned and, as usual, the offer was extended to Malfoy. But Harry had declined on behalf of the both of them. He, to the surprise of his friends, told them that they were having a date that day.

There was a slight tense semi-argument with Ron over the matter, but once Harry had explained to him that the both of them were trying their hardest to make it work, the youngest Weasley son decided that it would be wise to not pursue the matter any further.

Harry could hear his name being called out from somewhere amidst the throng of students eagerly waiting departure. Professor McGonagall stood by the huge doorway leading outside, where a pleasant breeze and tolerable heat could be felt from inside the Entrance Hall. Harry caught sight of Draco waving him over, so he bid his two best friends goodbye and made his way over to the blond with a tense smile on his face.

Draco’s smile faltered slightly when he realized that Harry was tense yet again. He frowned when Harry glanced sidelong and, following his gaze, or rather, glare, caught sight of Pansy. Without missing a beat, Draco reached out a hand to squeeze Harry’s arm, giving him a reassuring smile; these days, his smiles always seemed to be more sincere, now that he and Harry were together. He just wished he could say the same for Harry.

When everyone was given the go to leave, gotten into the carriages and went off, Harry and Draco took their time, opting instead to wait for everyone else to rush off to their destinations for the day. They stepped out of their carriage together, Draco holding up a hand for Harry to help him out. He felt a warm tingle when Draco’s hand steadied his own. Harry found himself stunned when the thought of holding Draco’s hand crossed his mind. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed or anything – he was sure that everyone at Hogwarts was aware of their relationship and, from what he’d seen so far, everyone at Hogwarts was surprisingly fine with it.

Speaking of everyone at Hogwarts, that also included Pansy Parkinson. Harry felt his stomach churn. Would it be wise to bring up the subject now? He glanced sideways at Draco’s profile as they walked in companionable silence towards Hogsmeade. Would Draco mind?

Suddenly, Harry found himself at a loss in his inner turmoil. Since when had the situation switch around? As far as he was concerned, he’d been the one to lead this relationship. He’d been the one who Draco groveled and apologized to, who Draco waited on. It was then that Harry realized how much of Draco he took for granted. And just when he started to appreciate exactly how much Draco had done for him, a loud, shrilly voice called out to them from one of the doors of the many shops.

“Draco! Over here!” Harry felt himself grow gradually annoyed by the second. Draco spared Harry a glance before shrugging his shoulders and walking in the direction of Pansy. The thought of breaking up with Draco didn’t even enter his mind as he followed the blond. Pansy smiled warmly at Draco, then turned her head and nodded to Harry. There was warmth in her smile, but not as much as what had been directed to Draco.

Again, Harry felt that familiar feeling in the pits of his stomach and it made his skin prickle, uncomfortably hot all over. It was, overall, a very unpleasant sensation. Harry felt rather left out as Draco and Pansy began to walk together, a little _too_ closely, he noted, just ahead of him. Pansy stopped outside a small boutique and was instantly taken with the store.

“Do you mind?” she asked, jerking her head in the direction of the quaint little store. Draco shook his head and shooed her away with a smile. Harry felt a lurch in his gut and, as soon as Pansy had disappeared behind the glass doors of the boutique, he let it all out.

“What the hell is with you this week?” Harry asked in a raised voice. Draco’s head snapped back to Harry, alarmed at his boyfriend’s tone. A few Hogwarts students glanced at the pair and quickly scuttled away, afraid of being caught in between one of their infamous lover’s spats. “You don’t talk to me, you constantly keep your distance from me, you disappear for hours on end and I didn’t even see you for two days straight! Then, I see you with…with _Pansy_ all the time?!”

Upon seeing the shocked and hurt expression on Draco’s face, Harry finally had the courage to name what he felt. Jealousy. Envy of Pansy and the intimacy, no matter the level, between her and Draco. Harry swallowed and continued his tirade, “I…maybe it’s best that we don’t continue this anymore. If you’re tired of being with me all the time-”

He was instantly cut short when he saw tears beginning to well in Draco’s eyes. “Is that it, Harry? I thought I was doing you a favour. I could tell you were getting annoyed with me. I was so scared, so afraid that you’d dump me because I was too clingy, and always around you. Don’t think I didn’t see the argument you had with Weasley about me! Your friendship with him and Granger is at stake because I’m always around!”

“Draco-”

“So then I told myself, even if it hurts, I’ll stay away from you, to give you space to breathe so you can get on with your life. And what are you talking about, being with Pansy all the time? She’s one of my best friends Harry, like Hermione is to you. She was just being a friend for me because I was feeling down,” Draco finally blurted out, wiping unshed tears on the back of his sleeve. Harry felt his body grow hot and cold simultaneously and a warm, tingling feeling, very much like when Draco had touched his hand, zipped through his nerves.

“You bloody idiot,” Harry whispered before striding over, and in two steps, he was wrapped up in Draco’s arms. Pansy walked out of the boutique at that moment, caught sight of the embracing couple and then reverently left quietly, a happy smile on her face. Once the two had managed to calm down, Draco kissed the top of Harry’s forehead and spoke into his hair.

“So, were you jealous?” he asked, sincerely curious. Harry was about to snap back, but the genuine inquisitive tone of Draco’s voice made him rethink it. After a moment, Harry nodded into the crook of Draco’s neck.

Draco smiled down at Harry and slowly, the two pried themselves apart. They walked in the direction of the Three Broomsticks, throats and stomachs questing for a bottle of butterbeer (they didn’t mind sharing, by now). Again, the thought of holding Draco’s hand crossed Harry’s mind, when he felt a tingle from the proximity of being so near to Draco. Using his well-known Gryffindor courage, Harry’s hand slipped into Draco’s and squeezed, and felt the gentle pressure being returned.

“You know,” Draco began, this time with a grin, “Love does not envy. But we’ll work on that.”


	5. Love Does Not Boast

Harry felt himself shift uncomfortably amongst his fellow Gryffindors. Currently, all the seventh years were huddled in one corner of the room, having the confidence as the eldest of their House to congregate without interruption from the younger years. Why was Harry so uncomfortable? The topic.

“So how far have you and Ron gotten, Hermione?” Lavender Brown asked, a sly grin on her glossy lips. There was a pause before Hermione nudged Ron, a deep blush on her face. The red-head grinned before wagging his eyebrows at his fellow housemates.

Parvati Patil scoffed at Ron and turned back to Hermione eagerly. “No, no! You have to tell us, Hermione. If you ask a guy, they make it seem so much more…” she paused, giving Ron a playful sneer, “exaggerated.”

The boys instantly jumped to defend themselves, indignant of the accusations made against them. Harry could see that Hermione was glad that the limelight had been taken off her for the time being, but it would only be a matter of time before Harry himself, had the attention of everyone in his year. Their bickering continued for a moment before Parvati whispered something into Lavender’s ear and the two girls turned to Harry, smiling wickedly.

“So Harry…” Lavender began cordially. She nudged Parvati, who almost seemed to blush and then asked the expected, “How far have you gone with Malfoy?”

There was silence amongst the seventh years and Harry had the sneaking suspicion that the entire Gryffindor common room had gone quiet just to hear his answer. Hermione instantly saw his discomfort and jumped to his defense.

“He doesn’t have to tell you anything, if he doesn’t want to,” she told them tersely, nodding at the grateful look Harry shot her way. To further prove her point, she waved her wand and Harry knew she had put up a silencing barrier in their part of the common room. Satisfied and confident that none of the Gryffindor youngsters could hear them, Hermione continued, “Harry and Draco will divulge their details when they’re more comfortable with it.”

There was silence, yet again, and Harry found himself shifting nervously under their expectant gazes. Heck, even Ron was staring at him as if waiting for him to suddenly admit that he and Draco were going at it like rabid bunnies, which they weren’t. In fact, aside from holding hands, hugging and the one kiss to Harry’s forehead, the month-long couple hadn’t progressed that far. It was a commendable effort, at least, since everyone knew that they had hated each other for six long years prior to the present, and for them to have suddenly started dating was something just short of a miracle.

Some part of him felt that he needed to defend Draco’s reputation in the school. Harry felt uncomfortably unsure if Draco was even a virgin, since his rumoured sexual prowess was something that was well-known to even the students at both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Harry knew he was going to regret this later, but he swallowed and shakily admitted, in a quick lie, “Sex without penetration.”

Instantly, there were red, blushing faces about him and Hermione and Ron looked absolutely stricken and scandalized, respectively. Parvati and Lavender looked completely abundant with glee, as if this was the new juice for their gossip corner. Hermione shot him a displeased look – clearly she could tell this was a lie, but everyone else, including Ron, had been drawn completely into it.

“How was it?” someone finally asked. There was an awkward silence before Harry replied, “Bloody brilliant.”

The fake grin he put on was enough to ward everyone’s suspicions off on the matter. He felt rather accomplished that he’d saved Draco’s reputation, but then again, what of his own? Someone, it didn’t register in his mind who, patted him on the back and there was congratulations coming from every direction. Outside the silence barrier, the younger Gryffindors looked on with jealousy at not being able to hear what had caused such a stir amongst the eldest year of their House.

“How was he in bed, Harry? Describe it!” someone else shouted out, causing a ripple of agreement amongst everyone. Harry could feel his face flush and his hand subconsciously went to rub at the back of his neck.

“Err…he’s...excellent in bed. Every time we do it, he always makes me come,” Harry told them, carefully choosing his words without sounding like a complete idiot. “And he holds me gently every time, and we move together. But I don’t think I’m ready for him to penetrate me just yet. He’s a great lover.”

At least there was some truth to it, even though the entire thing was a lie by a long stretch. Hermione shook her head at Harry, but allowed a small smile for him. People began gushing and giggling and, heaven forbid, Harry was suspicious of there being a ‘Drarry Fanclub’, hence the fangirling. Vaguely, he could hear the words ‘top’ and ‘bottom’ being repeated over and over again, but he chose to block everything else out.

The sudden urge to see Draco again was almost overwhelming. Harry told everyone that he was leaving and, despite the protests, Harry left their gossiping circle. He ran upstairs to grab his invisibility cloak and the Marauders Map, just in case he would be out late. He wondered where Draco would be, after all, dinner was over and everyone had retired to their respective Houses. He decided to make his way down to the dungeons. It wasn’t after hours yet, so he shouldn’t be stopped, but it would make a good question as to why a Gryffindor was down in Slytherin territory.

Harry passed a few giggling first-year Slytherins, all of whom greeted him with smiles. He felt a tad bit uncomfortable, but as soon as he reached the wall that led to the Slytherin common room, he found himself stumped. He’d been in there before, in his second year. He wasn’t sure if other houses were allowed in other common rooms, but he figured there must have been no magical barrier other than a password since he’d been able to get into there once before. Harry touched the wall, almost longingly before turning back to leave.

As soon as he’d taken two steps away from the wall, the group of first-years cornered him and asked if he was here to see Draco. He nodded. He’d had his share of lying for an entire month and couldn’t stand the guilt of lying anymore. After all, if he wasn’t down here for Draco, why else would he be here?

The girls shared knowing glances with smiles on their faces before one of them darted off towards the wall and said the password loudly enough for Harry to hear. He raised an eyebrow at her and swore she had winked at him before she disappeared behind the wall. A minute or so passed, with Harry standing there in the company of five or so Slytherin first years, before the girl reappeared and she told her friends to come back inside. Harry felt himself grow confused by the second and felt a tad bit rejected that Draco hadn’t come out to see him. Did he not want to see him?

“Harry, hurry up and get in here before Professor Snape comes!”

It was Pansy. Harry glanced around the empty corridor, hesitating at the wall, before Pansy rolled her eyes, grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him through. The Slytherin common room was almost exactly as he had remembered it from second year, only there were slight changes. It seemed to be a lot more spacious from before, and Harry owed that to the fact that there were a lot more students coming to Hogwarts, especially now that Voldemort was gone. Similar changes had been done to Gryffindor Tower, which had seemed to magically grow to accommodate more students.

The Slytherin common room was just as full as the Gryffindor one, and Harry felt a sense of déjà vu when he sighted all the Slytherin seventh years sitting in one corner of the room. Draco saw him and immediately jumped up to greet him. Loud wolf whistles, teasing remarks and cat calls could be heard as Draco sneered at his peers while dragging Harry by the hand downstairs to his dorm.

Again, there were distinct similarities between a seventh year Slytherin boys dorm and a seventh year Gryffindor dorm. The only noticeable differences were that the walls were laid in heavy-set stone and the colour scheme of the Slytherin House. Harry felt himself be pushed down awkwardly onto Draco’s bed and the two sat there in silence.

“So,” Draco began, at the same time as Harry. Both boys felt their cheeks grow red and they looked away from each other. Harry could feel the guilty pressure building up in his chest again, very much like the time he’d wanted to blurt out to Draco about his jealously of Pansy. He turned back to Draco when he felt the older boy’s hand gently cover his own, stroking the back of his hand with the pad of his thumb.

“Draco, I…” Harry started, refusing to meet Draco’s eyes. He felt so ashamed of himself. Why did he have to go and claim all those untrue things? Draco quickly turned to him, the grip on his hand becoming noticeably tighter.

To Draco’s own credit, at that moment, he thought that Harry had come here to break up with him and tell him that it was over. He felt his own heart beating rapidly in his chest, but as soon as Harry was done speaking, he felt the pressure on his heart melt away.

“You see, Draco, the Gryffindors were gossiping and I…kinda got caught up in it,” Harry could feel his cheeks burning brighter than ever. He shifted on Draco’s bed but the grip that Draco had on his hand was unrelenting. “It was about how far we have gone as couples…and I kinda told them…”

A suddenly grinning Draco had to lean in closer to catch what Harry had said, but by the time the Gryffindor was done, he was picked up and embraced by the taller boy. Harry felt relief fill him when he’d finally admitted it to Draco.

“Harry,” Draco told him, cupping his face gently in his hands, “I’m going to kiss you.”

And surprisingly, Harry had no arguments there. Rather, he lifted his lips eagerly to receive Draco’s, his eyes fluttering to a close. It didn’t progress any further, but it remained innocuous and chaste. They parted after a while of just pressing their lips together before Draco grinned wickedly and grabbed Harry around the waist before tossing him into his own bed. Harry let out a yelp of delight as Draco began to tickle him.

After a while, Draco’s lips had found Harry’s yet again, only this time, they’d progressed just a little bit further than just an innocent peck. Harry could, admittedly, count the number of kisses he’d shared with someone on one hand. And they’d been with girls. He wasn’t sure about Draco, but for his first time kissing a guy, it started to get a bit awkward. Harry shifted on Draco’s bed, moving his hand from Draco’s shoulder to his waist. He could feel the light pressure of a warm hand on his hip. Draco’s lips were warm and moist, whereas Harry’s were dry and slightly chapped.

The sounds of the boy’s dormitory door opening and closing broke Draco and Harry apart. Blaise Zabini walked in with Crabbe and Goyle, looking rather bored. He instantly saw Harry, flushed cheeks and bruised lips and asked if he could join in. Harry laughed as Draco, good-naturedly, threw a pillow at his best friend.

When everyone had settled down and Harry realized it was already well after hours, Draco offered his bed to share. Harry wasn’t a prude by any means, but it was still weird having to share a bed with another guy. Draco promised he wouldn’t do anything strange, except maybe spoon him or something. Harry accepted Draco’s generous offer and changed into one of his boyfriend’s spare pajamas.

With the curtains drawn around them and Draco fitted snuggly behind him, Harry felt himself as comfortable as if he were in his own bed. Just before he drifted off to sleep with a smile of his face, he heard Draco whisper, “Love does not boast. But we can give them something to talk about for a while…”


	6. Love is Not Proud

Five weeks since Harry and Draco had started dating, and things were starting to look up for them. The effort that they had put into making their relationship work was finally starting to pay off. Harry could not be seen anywhere without Draco somewhere nearby, either directly beside him, hands held together, or watching Harry with a longing expression on his face. Harry was oblivious to the pain he was causing Draco, but to his credit, Draco hadn’t said anything about it either.

“Draco, I need help with my homework,” Harry whined to his boyfriend, tugging on the older boy’s arm in the direction of the library. By now, Harry had gotten comfortable with just being himself around Draco and not being so uptight all the time. They used a nearby shortcut through a portrait to get into the library directly and made a beeline for a table for two in a quiet corner. Harry let out an almost inaudible sigh as he dropped himself into a chair and rested his head upon the mahogany table for a few moments. He felt his hand being touched by Draco while he was sprawled out. He didn’t mind it at all, really. It was funny how Draco could get his amusement from gently pulling on Harry’s fingers, curling and uncurling them, opening his fist and closing it.

He thought back, guiltily, to the very start of this almost unimaginable relationship, back to when Draco had confessed to him. Harry told himself that he didn’t believe it, that Draco was merely deluding himself. But now…

He snuck a peek at Draco from beneath his fringe and silently watched, unnoticed, as Draco stroked his hand with frighteningly gentle tenderness. Maybe Harry had been deluding only himself from the beginning. From the very start, Draco had been sincere and truthful (the fact that he was a Slytherin didn’t change the fact that he was working his hardest), and it had been Harry who hadn’t wanted to admit it.

“So are you going to start your homework yet?” Draco finally spoke up, a hint of his usual smirk on his lips. Harry lifted his head and blinked up at Draco before he kicked his bag, under the desk, towards Draco’s foot. Draco obediently picked it up and spread the books about them on the fairly large desk. Harry finally sat up properly, back straight and eyes attentive. They started on potions, since Harry seemed to be abysmal at it. Draco, having a natural talent for studying, pulled his chair closer to the table and the two put their heads together to complete Harry’s essay. Harry reckoned that Snape would have been an English teacher, and not a Chemistry one, with the amount of essay writing he allotted to each class.

“Oh, I get it now,” Harry grinned up at Draco when he had finally caught onto the different techniques of ingredient preparation. Draco rolled his eyes good-naturedly and reached out to push some of Harry’s unruly hair away from his face.

“No wonder you’re having a hard time. All you have to do is pay attention to what Professor Snape says and do it right. Then you’ll reduce the amount of detentions you get by at least 25%,” Harry blinked when Draco finished and laughed.

“If you were a muggle, I reckon you’d be tops at math,” Harry remarked, scrunching his face at the mention of the dreaded subject. Surprisingly, Draco didn’t look surprised at all and informed him that as a child, math was taught from an early age amongst wizarding children. Harry wondered, absently, if Ron was any good at it.

Once his potions homework was old news, he pulled his Transfiguration text book towards him and started working on that silently. Draco watched him as he worked, using a muggle pen instead of a standard quill. Harry stopped, suddenly, and glanced up to Draco with pleading eyes.

“Could you find me a book, Draco?” Harry asked him, jutting out his lower lip. Draco agreed instantly and Harry wrote down the title of the book on a scrap of parchment. Draco disappeared for a moment, leaving Harry to himself. He thought back to roughly an hour ago, before he’d started on his potions essay and imagined if he were someone else, watching himself and Draco sitting at this very table. Would they have looked like the epitome of a happy couple? Certainly, Draco and Harry continued their arguments and childish bickering, but it never progressed any further than that. It was never anything serious and, as it was, they’d gotten over most of the touchy subjects after Voldemort had been defeated.

Draco returned momentarily, with the requested book, placing it down quietly beside Harry. Harry glanced at the cover, nodded his thanks to Draco and then went back to working. By the time he was done with all his homework for the week, Draco helping him all the way, there was about an hour before the library was going to close. Only a few students loitered around the library around this hour, and Harry was sure that Hermione used the fact that she was here on a usual basis to get a good snog in with Ron without being caught. Madam Pince wasn’t exactly one of the most helpful people around and tended to be at odds with the students using the library.

Harry shoved all his books back into his bag, thanking Draco for finding the book while he was at it. Draco nodded, slinging his own bag over his shoulder. The two made their way out of the library and into the cool air of the fourth floor corridor.

“What do you wanna do?” Draco asked Harry as he glanced into a nearby window that had a mediocre view of the grounds outside. Harry shrugged as he took Draco’s hand and pulled the other boy along. They wandered the halls aimlessly for about five minutes before Draco decided that it would be good for the both of them to get some fresh air. “We’re not gonna go all the way to the lake. Just sit around the courtyard,” he suggested.

The two walked down two flights of stairs at the end of the fourth floor; the way was almost automatic after living in the school for nearly seven years, despite the magical atmosphere and moving staircases. They soon found themselves in one of the school’s many courtyards. Here and there, students sat, basking in the cool evening air with their wands aglow with soft light. Harry and Draco made their way over to a stone bench and sat down huddled close to each other, sharing the other’s body heat.

“Lumos,” Draco whispered and Harry followed suit. A gentle glow emitted from the tips of their wands and they held them while leaning against each other. They sat in pleasant silence, blissfully aware of the other pressed up against their side. Underneath their robes, Draco reached for Harry’s hand and entwined their fingers together. Harry glanced up at Draco and felt his lips shift into a smile as the blond pressed their soft lips together.

 “What are you going to do over the Christmas break?” Harry asked Draco curiously. Despite dating for five weeks now, Harry felt guilty that he knew almost next to nothing about Draco and his family. He supposed that since Draco had turned over a new leaf, there might be a good chance that Lucius Malfoy wasn’t such a nasty character, after all, he was Draco’s father.

There was a pregnant pause and silence permeated between them until Draco spoke. “I’m going home, as usual. Father has been cleared of all charges, since he helped…you know.”

Draco finished the sentence awkwardly, trying to skirt around the subject of Death Eaters. Harry understood, but he really wanted to know more about Draco, since they were dating and all. But before he could speak, Draco suddenly lit up, or maybe it was a trick of the wand light, but his expression suddenly looked as if time had been reversed and he was around thirteen again.

“You don’t have to, but I was wondering…if you maybe,” a pause, “wanted to spend Christmas break with me and my family at Malfoy Manor?” Draco asked hopefully. The word ‘manor’ made Harry understand the reality of the situation and its entirety. Draco was a Malfoy, yes, and he was rich. He was in an entirely different league from Harry, financially, as well as in status in the wizarding world. Before Draco had come to any conclusion that Harry was trying to think of an excuse to weasel his way out, he found himself with an armful of his boyfriend, squeezing the life out of him.

“Err…yeah, okay!”

Well…that settled that.

Harry felt the gentle squeeze on his hand and the feel of Draco’s thumb rubbing the back of his hand simultaneously, like in the library. They sat there and remained there, making small talk and generally getting to know trivial things about each other, until a bell signaled that lights out would be in ten minutes. They made their way back into the warm interiors of the castle and bid the other goodnight, sharing a final kiss before they parted ways.

* * *

 

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Hermione! I agreed to it. Why did I agree to it?” Harry asked, on the edge of hysterics. His two friends watched as he paced the floor hurriedly, his hands occasionally coming up to grip his already unruly hair and leaving it in a messier state than normal. Currently, the trio were in the courtyard Harry had been in last night, catching up with Harry. Hermione gave Harry a sympathetic smile while Ron grimaced.

“Mate, I can understand you like each other and all…but how do you know they’re not going to murder you in your sleep, or something?” he asked, raising his hands in front of him in his defense when two angry glares were shot his way. “I’m just saying! Can you really trust an ex-death eater? Malfoy Junior, I understand. But his dad is a nasty piece of work. You remember him, don’t you Harry? And what he did to Ginny?”

Of course Harry remembered him. He’d first met Mr. Malfoy during his second year of Hogwarts and, suffice to say, they hadn’t been on good terms since. Then again, the amount of times he’d run into Lucius Malfoy could be counted on his hands; none of them had been pleasant. After the final battle, where Harry, as expected, had defeated and ended the tyranny of the Dark Lord, Lucius Malfoy had been taken by the Ministry of Magic and Harry hadn’t seen or heard from him since.

Now that he thought about it, Ron might have actually been reasonable. What _if_ …? Just because Draco was his boyfriend now, and he cared for him, it didn’t mean that his father was accepting of it. Good GOD, did Mr. Malfoy even know?!

“Okay, let’s try to be reasonable here, Harry,” Hermione, always the voice of reason, stepped in when Harry stared pointing his wand at various aspects of the courtyard and transfiguring them, unsuccessfully, into completely different objects. “So, last night, you asked Draco what he was doing over the Christmas break. He said he’s going home and then he offered you the chance to stay with him at Malfoy Manor and you said ‘yes’, correct?”

Harry nodded and Hermione sighed, shaking her head. “Then I don’t see what the problem is. If Draco offered, he must trust his father enough to know what’s going to happen. I don’t think he would have made the offer if Mr. Malfoy didn’t know about your relationship. That would have been a foolish blunder on Draco’s half and he’s not the type to do reckless things like that,” she spared Ron a glance, “Even if you have something nasty to say about him being a git.”

“This is Draco _Malfoy_ we’re talking about, Harry! Try to see it from my point of view. If I, heaven forbid, started dating Malfoy, and the entire situation was the same, what would you do for me?” Ron tried to reason as well. He visibly shuddered at the suggestion of him being in Harry’s place. To Harry’s surprise, he felt a wave of jealousy and possessiveness sweep through his body, and barely kept his scowl hidden from view.

“Okay, okay. I’ll just…I dunno, tell him I forgot that I was meant to be going to your place over the break, Ron,” Harry suggested, ignoring the painfully sharp stab of guilt to his stomach. Hermione frowned and shook her head.

“Harry. You are being such a prat,” she stood up, looking completely disgusted. Hermione was like a sister to Harry, but seeing her like this made Harry feel like a small child again, being punished. He’d rather have her scream at him than use the disappointed and disgusted tone she was using now. Her voice and expression softened, “Draco _loves_ you, Harry. That’s how this entire thing started. Don’t forget that. He’d do anything for you. But you’re blinded by your pride to admit that you care for him too.”

Hermione left, at that moment, and Harry felt his heart swelling in his chest, despite her angry words.

Suddenly, he felt as if the world was brighter. Grinning to Ron, he tossed a nod in the direction of his best friend and went off to find Draco. But he couldn’t the blond anywhere. He’d been down to the Slytherin dungeons, and using the password he’d heard last week, gained access. But despite the welcome from the Slytherin students, they told him that Draco wasn’t there and that he’d best be on his way. So he left and began searching every nook and cranny of the school while he had the time.

He stopped by the Great Hall for breakfast, just to check if Draco was there, but, complying with the sinking sensation in his gut, he wasn’t. Since it was a Saturday, Harry had the entire day to himself. Of course, all classrooms were meant to be locked on the weekend, except with exceptions, like detentions. Then he checked the library, the courtyard, the kitchens, the owlery and just about every other aspect of Hogwarts that there was, like the Quidditch pitch. All were fruitless.

“Damn…where could he be?!” Harry shouted, slamming his fist into a nearby wall in his frustration. He then hissed in pain, withdrawing his hand to massage his stinging knuckles. Yet again, his muscles felt tense.

…Tense…? That’s it!

Harry, on a complete impulse, made his way to the tree he had sat under by the lake, hoping, on complete faith that Draco would be there. A smile spread across his face when he spotted a familiar blond sitting beneath _their_ tree with his back to him. Harry quietly made his way up to Draco and sat down beside him, letting out a huff. He was exhausted, and he’d been searching for his boyfriend for a few hours now.

“Have you been here this entire time?” Harry asked, trying to be nonchalant. He turned to Draco, but the blond wouldn’t turn to look at him. Harry felt his heart sink. His stomach churned. This wasn’t good. “Draco?”

He touched an arm to Draco’s shoulder but was instantly shaken off. Harry frowned. What on earth? Usually, when Draco was upset, when Harry touched him, he would welcome the feeling. But now, he was pulling away. Unless…

Unless Harry was the cause of it!

“Draco? Draco, if I’ve done something wrong…”

Harry stopped short when Draco finally lifted his head and glared up at him, eyes bloodshot. Harry heard a minute gasp leave his own lips as he saw Draco’s fatigued expression, including the bags under his eyes.

“It’s never you,” Draco spat, a familiar snarl on his lips, before he seemed to realize what he was doing. He turned away, ashamed at himself, and trained his hard gaze onto the lake itself, as if it would be able to freeze the waters. “It’s always me, isn’t it?”

Harry felt a slight pang in his chest, again with the guilt, but something else. Regret, perhaps? Suddenly, the sinking feeling inside him made himself more aware of the ‘chat’ he had with Ron and Hermione earlier on that day. What were the chances that…

“I heard you talking with Weasley and Granger, Harry,” Draco spoke softly, burying his head in his arms, which were propped up on bent knees. Harry felt his heart stop and the blood that circulated through his body seemed to freeze. “If you hated me that much, if you didn’t like me, then you should have just said no. Or even if you did like me, but didn’t like my family, you should have told me from the start. I feel as if you don’t…you don’t care.”

At that moment, a choked cry left Draco’s mouth and Harry realized, with a pain in his heart, that he’d been the reason why Draco was so hurt and was trying to hide his crying. Harry didn’t know what else to do. The regret and the guilt began to make itself known more and more inside of him, it almost hurt to breathe. Harry needed the comfort. He needed to comfort Draco first.

Slowly, as if approaching a scared animal or child, Harry wound his arms around Draco’s shoulders and pulled the taller boy towards him. Draco resisted at first, but upon Harry’s insistence, he gave up and found himself toppling into Harry’s lap. They sat like that for five minutes or so, in awkward silence, while Draco tried to regain his composure. By the time he was done, he began to pull out of Harry’s arms, trying to sit up. Harry did not relent.

“Harry, you can let go of me.”

“No.”

“Harry-” A pained voice.

“No.” But Harry stood firm. He rubbed a hand in circular patterns on Draco’s back, as if that would comfort the blond. Harry paused a moment. He needed to tell this to Draco, or else it would never come out right. Now seemed to be the right time. “Listen Draco…”

Draco tensed immediately in his arms. Harry gnawed on his bottom lip, wondering if maybe he was making a mistake in saying this.

“Draco, I know that you love me, but I don’t _exactly_ …” Harry trailed off, trying to think of a way to deliver his thoughts without sounding completely like an arse. He heard Draco sigh and Harry looked down to see the sad smile on his face yet again.

“You don’t love me.”

“Err…” Harry paused. He would be lying if he said he did, but he didn’t _hate_ Draco either. He cared for him more than a friend – that was for sure. “But I really do care for you, Draco, even if you don’t think so.”

He heard a snort and an inaudible sniffle before Draco pushed himself up, off of Harry’s lap and sat down quietly beside him.

“It’s okay,” Draco finally said after a moment of silence. Harry glanced back at Draco’s gorgeous profile to see him staring back at the lake again. “It’s okay if you don’t love me, yet.”

Harry nodded in understanding and felt Draco’s arms wrap around his waist, pulling him to the blond. “I see.”

“Love is not proud, Harry. So I’m glad you’re able to tell me this. You may not be in love with me,” Draco paused, then leaned down and captured Harry’s lips in a chaste lock, “But you’re getting there.”

Strangely enough, Harry didn’t feel intimidated by Draco’s words. In fact…

He was rather comforted that he could believe them.


	7. Love Does Not Dishonour Others

Six weeks marked the start of the Christmas break, and the number of weeks that Harry and Draco had been dating. Things started to look a lot brighter around Hogwarts, especially since Voldemort was gone and the intense rivalry that existed between Slytherin and Gryffindor seemed to dissipate to nothing but healthy inter-house rivalry.  A week ago, Harry had accepted the offer to stay at Malfoy Manor with his boyfriend, Draco, and his family. Since Draco was an only child, Harry figured that it would be just him and his parents, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

The cold weather that signaled winter was upon them was obvious by the sudden snow that coated Hogwarts one day. It was fortunate they wouldn’t be staying in the castle long though, because the Hogwarts Express was due to come that day, and when they reached Kings Cross Station, Lucius Malfoy would be there to pick them up.

Harry still couldn’t deny the cold and awkward feeling that lay active in his stomach. It gave him chills thinking about the elder Malfoy. Could he truly be trusted? Draco seemed to be alright with it, but then again, Harry _was_ dating Draco, not Lucius, so that made the point moot.

Someone was touching his arm, then shoulder before the hand that travelled his body finally settled on his opposite hip. Harry glanced up at Draco with a smile and felt a light pressure on his lips. They seemed to be doing that a lot in public nowadays. Love may not have been proud, but Harry wasn’t love, he was just Harry, and he was proud of being with Draco. If anyone else felt embarrassed by their public displays of affection, then, as Harry quite eloquently put it, ‘they can just go screw themselves’.

“Ready to leave?” Draco asked his boyfriend, jostling his shoulder gently. Harry nodded and felt the warm arm around him leave his waist – it felt like a part of him had gone missing, and that thought was frightening Harry enough. Draco, ever such a gentleman, levitated their luggage into the carriage that would take them to Hogsmeade and, consequentially, the Hogwarts Express. They shared a carriage with Hermione, Ron, Neville and Ginny, making that six.

Harry patted a threstal on the snout as he walked past, almost giggling at the bewildered look Draco shot him. Harry reminded himself that Draco _had_ seen people die, so it was safe to presume that he could see the animals as well. “They’re gentle. Go on and pat them.”

Draco did trust Harry, but the animals looked so foul that he didn’t dare lay a finger on them. Harry laughed at his childishness and Draco sent one of his infamous pouts (which, as usual, was kissed, much to the embarrassment of the people around them). Ron commented, loudly enough to Hermione, that they were pretty much married, with the way they acted. Even Draco found himself laughing along with Harry’s friends.

The ride didn’t take too long, perhaps fifteen or so minutes, before they arrived and Hermione and Draco levitated their luggage into the express. Harry and Ron chattered excitedly to each other about what they might do when they got back from the break. After all, it was their last year of schooling at Hogwarts before their generation would be unleashed upon the world. Right now, they were just making plans on how to ‘spice up’ the boring classes that they had to endure. Surprisingly for Harry, potions had gotten interesting. Since Draco had pointed out that Harry actually _did_ have a talent for potions, Harry tried his hardest and, as loathe as Snape was to admit it, Harry had rapidly become one of his favourite students. In potions, anyway.

The group found an empty carriage and settled in for the hour long train ride back to the station. Harry pulled his robes closer to him and shivered slightly. Hermione saw this and cast a warming charm in their carriage, not so much that it would feel stuffy, but so that the winter chill would be kept outside. Draco murmured his thanks to Granger and pulled Harry towards him, peppering his cheeks and temple with loving kisses. Harry tittered with laughter because it tickled. Everyone in their friendship circle was used to this by now, but it seemed that only Harry had gotten over the rivalry between them. Draco still refused to call Granger, the Weasleys and Longbottom by their first names, and vice versa for Harry’s friends.

They spoke to each other for the duration of the ride and when the Hogwarts Express finally pulled into the station, Harry scrambled up to gather their luggage. Draco laughed as Harry nearly dropped one on his foot, so he used ‘Wingardium Leviosa’ to levitate them out. Wizards. Honestly, always so lazy.

Harry chattered happily with Draco as the departed from the train, but as soon as he stepped foot outside, he caught sight of Draco’s father and his breath caught in his throat. Here he was, in the flesh, Lucius Malfoy. Harry braced himself for the displeasure that Mr. Malfoy would be careful to ooze, simply for him, but it never came. To his pleasant surprise, Lucius greeted him with a deep bow and then promptly embraced his son.

Harry wondered if, the moment he’d stepped off the Hogwarts Express, he’d actually stepped into an alternate universe. Shaking his head, Harry forced himself to smile as Draco began to speak to his father rapidly about the school year so far and how he and Harry were coming along. Lucius’ grey eyes flickered over to Harry and regarded him for a moment, before he glanced away. Harry’s heart stuttered in his chest. Lucius Malfoy was an intimidating man, indeed.

* * *

 

Malfoy Manor was a grand structure. Certainly, a lot smaller than Hogwarts, but definitely the biggest house Harry had seen outside of it. Located in the region of Wiltshire, Malfoy Manor was on an impressive estate, abundant in both size and elegance. The fact that it was snowing added an almost cold touch to the manor, making it seem more out of ethereal, yet at the same time, earthly. Harry felt quite out of place, standing before the picturesque building, but the moment he felt Draco’s hand in his, the horrible feeling washed away.

Lucius, despite his past, had learnt to accept some muggle inventions, and anything that was of muggle conception, hence the convenience of using a car. Harry and Draco were seated in the backseat of a sleek, silver Lexus, no doubt, one of the Malfoy family’s many cars.

A large, perfectly straight driveway, boarded on both sides by high, manicured yew hedges, led right up to the front door, carved, Harry could see, in ornate wood and protected by magic. Mr. Malfoy raised his wand from his place in the driver’s seat and the enormous wrought-iron gates opened without protest or sound, a sign of good maintenance. They drove on through, Draco looking rather nervous (Harry smiled at that) and Harry looked on in amazement at the grandeur.

“Do you like the scenery, Mr. Potter?” Lucius asked him cordially, eyeing him through the rear-view mirror. Harry nodded enthusiastically. To his delight, a small smile appeared on Lucius’ lips and the man turned away. Unbeknownst to Harry, Draco watched this small exchange with a sinking heart and frowned, glaring out his window.

There were albino peacocks roaming about the front yard and garden, something which Draco had pointed out before they left, so that Harry would be able to have some knowledge of his home before they got there. Harry stared at the magnificent creatures, all beautifully groomed and strutting about with a grace only they could have. Certainly, any animal without such grace and majesty would not be allowed on the Malfoy estate – Mr. Malfoy would not have allowed it. It was almost hard to see the creatures, however, because they almost blended in with the whiteness of the snow.

“You should see it in spring,” Draco remarked as Harry stared at a frozen fountain in the centre of what he presumed to be a garden. “Mother actually doesn’t like to use magic on her garden. She’d rather let nature take its course, which is lucky, because you can appreciate the beauty more when the time comes. I’ll bring you back here again, if you want.”

Harry’s heart warmed up to the promise in Draco’s words and smiled back at his boyfriend.

Mr. Malfoy parked the car, slightly off side to the front door and Harry heard the boot click open. He and Draco got out on their respective sides of the car and levitated their luggage out of the boot. Mr. Malfoy insisted that he be the one to take the luggage, stating that it would be an insult to his guests if he didn’t act the part of the perfect host. Harry felt himself slowly becoming at ease with Lucius. He didn’t trust the man completely, but so far, he’d been pleasant and civil – more than Harry could have asked for. Draco took Harry’s hand and shot him a wink. The two boys followed Lucius up to the front doors, which magically opened upon stepping onto the porch.

“Harry, Draco will take your luggage up to your room,” Lucius told them, dropping the levitated bags so that Draco could take them. He turned to his son and said, “His room should be the one across from yours.”

Draco nodded and gestured for Harry to follow him. He felt a frown on his lips, however, when Harry opted to stare after his father when he walked off. Harry seemed to snap out of his trace seconds later and took the time to gaze around at manor’s entrance hall. Truly, it was as gorgeous on the inside, if not more, than it was on the outside. The interior was sumptuously decorated, with a magnificent carpet with a fleur-de-lis design underfoot. Harry subconsciously tried to stay light footed, as if he was staining the floors by merely being inside the house.

The furniture was mostly wood, all expensive with ornate carvings, as well as gilded glass. Harry wished he knew if he was able to touch the furniture – it would have certainly come out as a stupid question, but he bet that the amount of times that Draco sat on the chair in the entrance hall – something he was sure was only there for décor – was next to zero. Vaguely, as he passed a tall standing cabinet, made entirely of gilded glass, he wondered if Draco even touched the furniture in his home on a daily basis, or knew they existed.

Harry would have known were everything was in Privet Drive (except for in Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Dudley’s rooms), but here, he might as well have been lost. Silently, he followed Draco through the house until they reached their allocated rooms. Draco opened the door for Harry and brought his luggage in while Harry took the opportunity to look around.

“This is where you’ll be staying while we’re here. I hope you find everything to your liking,” Draco said, and Harry wondered if it was automatic. Grinning, Harry flicked his wand in the direction of the door and shut it, before grabbing his boyfriend by the lapel of his robes and flung the both of them onto the bed. Harry heard Draco groan underneath him while he kissed him. Draco’s tongue flicked out and licked his bottom lip and before he knew it, he was underneath the blond.

“Yes,” Harry purred out decisively, “The bed is very…very…nice.”

“Nice?” Draco laughed, cocking an eyebrow as he bounced up and down, at the same time straddling Harry’s waist. “All you can say is nice?”

Harry shot him a playful glare and kicked him off. “I’d feel weird saying something more descriptive. Like…beautiful. I mean, who the heck would describe a bed as beautiful?”

Seconds later, he found himself on his back yet again, Draco atop him, pinning him down. He shuddered as a hot breath coated his lips, moving down to his neck to caress the skin there with soft lips. “When you’re moaning and writhing underneath me on _this_ very bed, begging me for more…”

Harry felt himself clam up as Draco began to suck at the flesh on his neck. His cheeks were almost painfully hot, flushed a deep red as Draco continued his ministrations. Suddenly, the door opened and Draco flung himself off a ravished-looking Harry, ending up on the floor with a disgruntled ‘oof!’

Narcissa Malfoy’s eyes glinted with amusement as Draco stood up and brushed himself clean. “Mother! How did you-”

The blonde woman glanced around the room and raised an eyebrow at her son. She spoke only one name, “Lucius.”

“Oh.”

The woman sighted Harry and he instantly felt a lot smaller. Would she be nicer than Lucius, or nastier? He recalled meeting her in his fourth year, during the Quidditch World Cup, and she hadn’t said a thing to him, but she had regarded him as if he were the dirt that had gotten under one of her expensive heels. She smiled, but Harry did not feel any warmth behind it. It felt awfully fake, rather cold. He definitely felt a lot smaller now.

Draco noticed the interaction between his mother and his boyfriend and quickly stepped in between them. “Mother, if you would…” he trailed off, hinting for her to leave them be. Narcissa raised an eyebrow before striding forward with elegance and grace, and enveloping her son in an affectionate embrace that Harry thought would have been impossible for a woman of her persona. A wave of envy swept through him, not because Narcissa was embracing his boyfriend, but because his boyfriend had a mother that actually cared and loved him. Harry felt no resentment towards his parents – they’d been the ones to save him, protecting him with their lives that ended up as the ultimate sacrifice – but sometimes he wished that his mother was here to comfort him, or his father to talk to.

Narcissa broke apart from her son, planting a kiss on his forehead before she turned, nodded in acknowledgement to Harry and promptly left the room. Draco rubbed the back of his neck as an awkward silence followed.

“Erm…well…that was my mom,” he told Harry, who laughed, despite the coldness he’d felt from the woman.

“I think I saw a resemblance,” Harry sniggered, ducking when Draco snatched up a pillow from the foot of the bed and lobbed it at him. “Your aim is completely off, by the way. It’s a wonder how you play Quidditch.”

“Really?” Draco mused, raising an eyebrow as he slid onto the bed again, velvet covers gliding silkily beneath them as he crawled over to where Harry sat. “My aim is bad?”

Harry felt his breath catch in his throat when he found himself face to face with Draco, their noses just touching. “Draco…”

He saw his boyfriend’s laughing eyes before the blond pulled away. Harry then realized that his heart had quickened to the pulse of a rabbit being chased by a wolf. “Dinner is in an hour,” Draco informed him. “Get settled in, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” Harry managed to croak out, hoarsely, before Draco shot him another smile and departed from his room. The door closed and Harry collapsed against the pillows, huffing. His heart had never sped up like that before. And Draco had been the one to do it.

* * *

 

Damn!

He knew, from the very start, that he’d end up lost. Dinner. Right. It _would_ have started in an hour, and Harry presumed that Draco would have gone to look for him, only Harry had no idea where he was, or where he was going. The manor was so big that not even the smell of food could be sensed from a long way away. He patted his stomach, as if it would comfort the grumbling section of his body, but it only made him realize just how hungry he was. In his excitement, he’d skipped lunch and had only eaten a small portion of his breakfast, lest he throw up in from his excitement.

A glance at his watch told him that dinner should have been over by now. He continued to walk down a long hallway, keeping his sight set pointedly in front of him and ignoring the occasional portrait that would either stare or yell at him. Lucius Malfoy should throw them out. Such unrefined characters! He recognized an elegant looking vase, made entirely of glass, but looking as if it were made of ice or crystal. He was tempted to touch it, but on the chance that he might leave a fingerprint, he decided against it.

His heart leapt to his throat when he heard Draco’s voice coming from one of the rooms nearby. In his haste, he hurried to it, but stopped just outside when he heard a shout in Draco’s voice.

“No! Absolutely not!”

There was a pause, perhaps in shock, because Draco never rebelled against his parents; he always obeyed them, never dared to answer back.

Then there was a loud, scathing remark from Narcissa, and her choice of words caused Harry to wince. “You _will_ Draco! You will tell him tonight. I do _not_ want that Potter boy staying in this house. I don’t know what caused your father to accept him – he’s from much lower a class! He probably doesn’t even have a single galleon to his name!”

“That’s an exaggeration, and you know it, _mother_ ,” came Draco’s low snarl. “I don’t care if he didn’t have a _knut_ to his name. I love him. Just as he is.”

Harry had to grip the wall beside him to gain his bearings. Sure, he’d heard Draco say that to his face, but to hear him saying that to someone else, especially his mother, who probably hated Harry, made the entire situation seem almost unreal.

“And for your information, _mother_ , he has both the Potter and Black vaults in Gringotts. He’s about as well of as we are,” Draco sneered. Harry could almost picture him, face set in a menacing snarl. “Don’t you dare touch him. Or I’ll leave this house and never come back.”

“D-Draco! Surely you don’t mean that!” Narcissa’s voice rose octaves and caused Harry to wince yet again. He wondered where Lucius was in this argument. On what side, as well as literally – he didn’t hear a single word from the man.

The answer came seconds after the thought and from right behind him too.

“Mr. Potter? What are you doing?” Lucius Malfoy’s voice was smooth, like velvet but not cold like Narcissa’s. It was almost as if he rather liked having Harry under his roof. Harry pivoted on his heel to see the head of the Malfoy household standing behind him, a wine glass filled with an amber coloured liquid in his hand. Instantly, the voices in the drawing room ceased and there was a tense silence in the hallway. Then, Lucius side stepped Harry, gesturing for him to follow as he opened the door.

Draco whirled about, shock horror written on his face as he saw Harry’s expression. As much as Harry would have tried to keep the hurt expression off his face, he couldn’t. He at least seemed to be crestfallen. Draco shot his mother a filthy glare before striding over to Harry and pulling him towards his chest.

Harry had to keep his head down, hidden in the crook of Draco’s neck as he listened to his boyfriend’s comforting words. A warm hand stroked the back of his neck, occasionally playing with the unruly hair at the nape of his neck. The position would have been comfortable, had the situation been under entirely different circumstances.

“Narcissa, care to explain why you are slandering our guest?” Lucius’ tone was frighteningly cold, and Harry could hear the disappointment and disapproval in his voice. Briefly, he wondered if Lucius did love Narcissa and made a mental note to ask Draco if their marriage had been an arranged one, or one of love. Most likely, it was the former, judging from the uncaring expressions on each spouse’s face. Draco pulled Harry into a seat, trying to make the brunet comfortable on his lap. Harry didn’t resist, even with Draco’s parents in the room. The soothing reassurance that Draco provided was so welcome that he hadn’t the heart to turn him away.

Instead, he leaned into Draco’s warmth, trying his best to block out the arguing voices of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. His head shot up in surprise, no, shock was more like it, when a loud, shattering noise called everyone’s attention. Narcissa Malfoy looked the picture of a wild banshee, hair about her and face snarling in anger.

“I will not have such _filth_ ,” she pointed an accusing finger to Harry, “in this house! Either I go, or that Potter boy does!”

Lucius regarded his wife with cool eyes once the ultimatum was made, and then turned back to his son. “Well, Draco, it seems that you must come to a decision, one that will ensure you will never see one of your parents ever again. Your mother will leave if you keep Harry…” he trailed off, glancing offside to give his wife a reproachful look. “And I will never see you again, if you don’t.” (1)

The sound of Narcissa’s screech barely registered in his ears while Draco’s form seemed to relax immediately. Harry knew he loved his mother, very much, and this caused him to tense, but if Draco were to chose between his mother and his father, it would most likely be the latter and it was probably that alone that helped Draco make his decision.

“Harry. I choose Harry.”

Another loud scream, again from Narcissa, yelling at Draco and calling him a ‘blood traitor’. Lucius immediately silenced her with a glare that would have had the hardiest of deceased men turning in their graves. Lucius reminded her that he was on Draco’s side, not hers, and for her to have made the ultimatum in the first place alienated her from the Malfoy family. After all, Draco was the heir to the Malfoy fortune, not Narcissa.

Despite all that had transpired through the night, Harry felt a spike of rage at this. He stood up and stepped between Lucius and Narcissa, both looking as if they would draw their wands that very moment and hex each other to bits.

“Stop! Please!” Harry pleaded, glancing frantically between the two Malfoy’s. Across from him, Draco had already leapt up to catch him (he’d failed in that, obviously), his mouth hanging open in shock. “Mr. Malfoy, that was completely sexist and uncalled for. No family deserves to be torn apart, no matter how different the members are. The separation of a family – I would not wish it upon even my worst enemy, and you understand the magnitude of that. Mrs. Malfoy, I did not intend to bring any calamity to your home,” there was a short pause, but Harry wanted to be certain of his words before he spoke; and when he knew they were true, he did, “But I will not leave your son under such circumstances. That is a promise.”

There was an awkward silence, but it was broken by Narcissa’s loud sob. She collapsed to the floor in a heap, face buried in her hands while she wept. Draco glanced hopelessly between his father and Harry, and then his mother, but Harry urged him to Narcissa’s side. Giving him a weak smile, Draco went to his mother, embracing her.

“Mother, I do love you, and Father too. But know this; I’ve never loved anyone like Harry before, in my entire existence. I will not leave him, that is _my_ promise,” Draco told her, but his eyes were trained solely on Harry.

Harry was astonished when he felt something wet trickling down from his eyes and before it was too late, he realized that he was crying. And he wasn’t sad, at all. Lucius placed a strong hand on his shoulder, patting it lightly while Draco turned back to his mother and kissed her cheek.

“I love him.”

Harry could not say anything to that. He wasn’t in love with Draco, he knew that much. But he was so close to it that it confused him too much to think.

“Love does not dishonour others, mother. If you were ashamed of the relationship between Harry and me, I would have left. That is the truth,” Draco told her solemnly. Narcissa finally nodded and Draco helped her up. She took shaky steps towards Harry, and for a moment, he thought she would have slapped him. But no feeling could have described the happiness he felt when she wrapped her arms around him and embraced him like a mother would her son.

He returned the gesture, smiling at Draco over her shoulder.

If this is what a family felt like, he wouldn’t mind staying at Malfoy Manor. Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Paraphrased from Pride and Prejudice when Mr. Bennett says to Elizabeth, something along the lines of "Your mother will never speak to you again if you do not marry Mr. Colins, and I will never see you again if you do."


	8. Love is Not Self-Seeking

By the time Christmas had rolled around, Harry and Draco had already completed their shopping for the festive holiday and had yet to trade their gifts to each other. They had now been dating for seven weeks and Harry was getting comfortable with affectionate and intimate gestures by Draco, though he found it difficult to admit anything in fear of mistaking himself. By the 25th of December, a thick layer of snow had painted all of Malfoy Manor a picturesque scene. Despite it not being a castle, the manor had at least one tower in each wing, making that a total of four turrets that seemed to crawl into the sky if one stood directly beneath one. Harry had been given a tour of the Malfoy home, each wing taking precisely one day, simply from the mere size. In addition to that, there were many interesting artifacts and bits of history behind Malfoy Manor that Harry, surprisingly, found himself quite interested in.

“My grandfather had this wing built in honour of my father’s birth. My father did no such thing for me, but I can see that it would have been completely wasted on me,” Draco explained as they walked across a huge expanse of intricately woven carpet underfoot. Draco pointed up to a magical, golden-framed portrait of a thin looking man who had an uncanny similarity to Lucius Malfoy.

“Draco!” the man boomed, smiling down good-naturedly at his grandson. Draco bowed to the elder and gestured for Harry to do the same. The man in the portrait, Abraxas Malfoy, stated the plaque beneath it, grinned in a way that Harry thought would have been impossible for the older Malfoy generations. It was weird enough to have seen Draco smile the first time, but after that, he loved seeing Draco’s face light up with delight.

“You must be Harry Potter. Young Draco here comes to see me daily. He’s been telling me about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Abraxas told him, his eyes shining with fondness. Harry glanced over to see Draco’s cheeks become a deep shade of pink. Harry returned the kind greeting with sincerity, feeling his heart swell with pride when he realized that, despite what had happened at the start of Christmas Break, he’d pretty much gotten Draco’s family to adore him.

Narcissa Malfoy had gotten over her fit and doted on Harry as if he were Draco, spoiling him with sweets and cakes when they had free time, or simply sitting down to talk with him while Draco had to discuss the more finer points of his inheritance of the Malfoy fortune.

After their tour was done, Draco had shown Harry the extensive library that was located closer to the drawing rooms than any other part of the manor. He explained that on occasion, he, his father or Severus Snape (when visiting), enjoyed reading in the drawing rooms. For Snape to have the want to read from the Malfoy library probably meant that there were indeed rare and expensive books that the potions master probably would have only dreamed of acquiring. Harry didn’t dislike books but he did find the heavier tomes to be a waste of precious time. Why read pages and pages worth of words when they can be explained easier and in slimmer volumes? In Harry’s opinion, it made the hobby of reading a lot more tedious. Draco laughed when Harry voiced this opinion and told him that he needed him to stay in the library for today.

“Why?” Harry asked as Draco sat down and pulled him into his lap. Draco gave him a lazy, open-mouthed kiss while at the same time, summoning a book from a nearby shelf. It wasn’t as well stocked as the other bookshelves, merely because it wasn’t as big, so Harry figured that this must have been Draco’s personal selection. Harry moaned into the kiss while Draco grabbed the paperback and set it down on the small table beside him.

“Gotta” – a sloppy suck to Harry’s tongue – “do some” – Harry nipped Draco’s bottom lip playfully – “work with” – Draco licked the side of Harry’s mouth, along the edge of his lips before delving back into the kiss – “Father.”

Harry nodded but did not move from Draco’s lap. He straddled the older boy and held a hand to his pulse-point, gently stroking the patch of skin with the pad of his thumb. “And leave me here all alone with all the big, bad books, on Christmas Day, no less?” A pout caused Draco to laugh, instead of having the desired reaction of acquiescence to Harry’s wants. Draco placed a close-mouthed kiss on Harry’s lips before he shifted to the side, causing Harry to fall into the plushy armchair.

“Sorry, Harry. Working,” Draco told him, as if that would explain everything. Harry watched as Draco left the room before he rolled his eyes and picked up the paperback book that Draco had left on the table. The cover didn’t look very interesting, but then again, Harry knew not to judge a book by its cover; so with only a marginal amount of hesitation, he flipped the cover open and went directly to the first chapter.

Two hours later found Harry sitting drowsily in the armchair, slouching where he sat. If there had been someone watching him, they would have been amused at the many positions Harry had assumed while reading, one of them being upside down (obviously, that didn’t last long, as Harry soon discovered, since all the blood had rushed to his head). Harry wondered what Draco was doing now. He’d never imagined that he’d find himself reading a book during Christmas, by himself (he figured this was how Snape must have felt and vowed to get the man a good brand of scotch the next time he saw him), so he decided that, on the off-chance that Malfoy Manor had gone ‘muggle-ized’, there would be at least one telephone _somewhere_ in the gigantic building.

He replaced the book on the table (not knowing exactly which shelf Draco had gotten the book from) and left the library to wander about, in search of a telephone. True, he _could_ just send a message by owl, but he wouldn’t dare send his poor Hedwig out in the cold. Right now, she was probably preening in her cage, warm by the fire. He really wanted to talk to Ron and Hermione, since he’d usually spend Christmas at the Burrow with the Weasley family and his best friends.

He passed a few empty rooms, thinking to himself that Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy _really_ should have had more children to liven the place up. It was just too…lonely. Harry continued down a familiar corridor, courtesy of Draco’s tour-guiding skills and slipped into another hallway. The portraits had gotten used to him and greeted him cordially (except the one of a snobbish looking couple in the eastern wing, who continued to mock Harry every time he walked past – Harry figured that they must have just hated their positioning, having to face the sun every morning), so Harry was able to stop and ask for directions whenever he got lost. He ended up back in front of his room and wondered if there might have been a telephone in there that he might not have noticed before.

He turned around when he heard a voice coming from Draco’s room, and it _was_ Draco, but he seemed to be talking to someone else (and Harry felt that he might have been using a telephone). He stood there, pensive for a moment, debating whether or not he should walk in and interrupt, when he heard something that made him stand stock still.

“I don’t love him, you nitwit,” Draco seemed to hiss. There was a silence before a groan left Draco’s mouth and he was shouting yet again, “No! Look, it’s Christmas, so could you just-”

Draco fell silent, and Harry presumed he’d been interrupted when Draco began to rattle off with a few, _colourful_ choice words that would have sent the foulest-mouthed of sailors turning in their graves. “You’re a bloody git if you think I’d ever love him. There’s nothing between us, trust me. I’ll be sure to tell him today.” A short pause, “Okay, okay. Goodbye.”

Harry distinctively heard him mutter ‘and good riddance!’ before silence reigned over the hallway once again. Behind him, he could hear the pitying crooning of a plump, old lady (who reminded him very much of the Fat Lady guarding the Gryffindor common room), before the door to Draco’s room opened and said boy stepped out. He stopped short and Harry could see the surprise written on his face when he saw him.

“Harry? What are you doing-”

Draco was cut off before Harry turned on his heel and swept back into his room, slamming the door in Draco’s face. There was a loud pounding on the door, obviously Draco in his attempts to get Harry to open up. Imagine Harry’s surprise when he heard a loud crack from somewhere behind him (he was face down on his bed) and the sound of Draco’s voice filtered through the drawn curtains. Oh, of course Draco could Apparate around the house. It was _his_ home after all. Bloody git.

“Harry…?” the sound of Draco’s unsure voice confirmed his hesitation. There was a deep sigh before Draco continued. “You heard the entire thing, didn’t you?”

Harry didn’t answer and Draco assumed that he did not want to talk. Couldn’t he just leave him be? As it was, he hated the feeling that his heart was being…oh, he didn’t know the feeling really, it was the first time he’d felt it in his life – his heart felt like it was being _stepped_ on and the pressure was becoming so great, he thought he’d might actually cry out in pain. Again, Draco called his voice and Harry’s heart leapt to his throat when he realized exactly how close he was. Didn’t he know to leave someone who was wallowing in misery alone?!

The curtain drew back and Harry only had half a mind to give him a sucker punch before he felt Draco’s hands forcing him down. Harry, thinking that Draco was trying to attack him, struggled, of course, and had managed to punch Draco across the jaw. It wasn’t strong enough to bruise since Harry had only done it half-heartedly. Draco looked as if he’d been slapped and sat there, stunned. Harry might as well have cast ‘stupefy’ on him, judging from the way he sat so still.

“D-Draco?” Harry croaked out, seeing the immediate tears that sprung to Draco’s eyes. “Oh come on, I didn’t hit you that hard, did I?”

“It’s not that,” Draco finally whispered when he didn’t laugh at Harry’s nervous banter. “You’re angry at me, aren’t you?” he said quietly. Harry didn’t say anything as Draco fell back onto his haunches and then continued to sit there in silence. “Do you…hate me, again?”

It was probably the ‘again’ that had bothered Harry the most. He knew he didn’t hate Draco, despite what the implications of what the boy had been talking about before could have been. Harry watched as Draco, dejectedly, turned away from Harry and slowly got up off the bed. His heart thudded loudly when Draco didn’t turn back and walked out of the room in silence.

‘Idiot!’ He shouted to himself mentally. ‘Chase after him!’

He didn’t have to run very far. After sitting there, stunned, for a total of five seconds, he’d finally gotten enough motivation for his body to move and he bolted out of the bed as if he’d been electrified. He found himself outside of Draco’s door and it suddenly occurred to him that he’d never actually been in there before. He placed a tentative knock to Draco’s door, but was met only with silence. Harry had never been one to listen to rules on mannerisms, so he simply turned the doorknob, and to his surprise, it was unlocked.

Draco’s room was, of course, more furnished and lived in than Harry’s (if you would call it Harry’s). The carpet was soft (Harry and Draco often walked around barefoot when in each other’s company, as Lucius and Narcissa didn’t mind – provided there weren’t any visitors), like any other part of the manor, but Draco’s was a dark blue. There was a large study desk that occupied one side of the room that was littered with papers and stacked with books. Harry felt his lip curl into a smile when he spotted the brand new computer that was turned off on Draco’s table. One wall was taken up entirely by a walk-in wardrobe and all doors were closed. There was a door to the right, which Harry presumed must have been the adjoining toilet, as he had one as well.

To his left, there was a large television that looked as if it hadn’t been used in months, judging by the layer of dust that covered it. Draco didn’t seem like the type of person to sit and watch the telly on a daily basis. A large couch occupied the space there as well as a fireplace that looked, oddly, out of place. There were wizarding and muggle video games and consoles, enough to make any little boy’s dream come true. Harry was reminded of Dudley for a split second before he turned his attention to the ball that was curled up on a four-poster bed, covered entirely in midnight blue, silk sheets. Harry felt a tingle as soon as he touched the bed. The drapery was open, so he could clearly see Draco’s form hidden beneath his blankets.

“Go away Harry,” came Draco’s muffled voice. Harry spotted a mobile phone sitting on Draco’s bedside table. So he had been using a phone. Harry ignored his boyfriend’s order and crawled into Draco’s bed from behind him. He heard a soft sniffle and presumed Draco had been crying. He felt his heart stutter at the thought and promptly buried his head into the crook of Draco’s silk-sheet covered neck. For a moment, neither of them moved before Harry had felt Draco shifting under the sheets and moved so that Draco’s head could finally be seen. His hair was a disarrayed mess and Harry would have laughed, had he not seen the red hue in Draco’s eyes that signaled a good cry. “Does it make you feel better to see me like this?”

The tone was almost accusatory. Harry felt slightly miffed that Draco would think that and so he shook his head in response. The blond looked surprised, but turned away instead and lowered his voice. “What you heard…”

“I’m sorry for overreacting, Draco,” Harry murmured. Draco looked up suddenly in shock and his mouth opened and then promptly closed. He lifted his head in that haughty manner that only he could pull off and sniffed slightly. Harry rolled his eyes and gave him a small smile. “So are you going to explain what I heard, or am I to presume that you don’t like me anymore?”

“ _Love,_ Harry,” Draco stressed on the word, causing Harry to sit there, completely still. Even after hearing Draco saying it many times, he couldn’t get over it. “I love you.”

“Right…err…” Harry paused. How could he tell Draco such things if even _he_ felt embarrassed about admitting, out loud, that Draco loved him? Draco didn’t say anything, but Harry could see that the other boy was in pain, not of the physical sort, but his eyes were dulled, somewhat.

‘I’m not going to ruin Christmas for anyone,’ Harry told himself firmly. He leaned over and pushed Draco down on the bed, the blond going down without protest. Harry sat there, atop Draco for what seemed like a full minute, when in reality, it had only been about five seconds, not sure of exactly what he was supposed to do. Draco continued to watch him, curiosity shining in his stormy, grey eyes as Harry shifted awkwardly atop him. Sure, he’d initiated some kisses before and had shown a bit of his dominant side in the library, but _still_ …

He cupped Draco’s cheek, where he’d punched him and bent down to kiss the slightly reddened flesh there. A small sound left Draco’s throat, but the blond stubbornly kept his mouth shut. Harry could feel the damp trails on Draco’s cheeks where tears had run their course. He started from Draco’s chin and kissed his way up the right tear-track, leading up to Draco’s gorgeous eyes. The blond’s eyes fluttered close as Harry pressed a kiss to his eyelid and around his temple, moving across his forehead to kiss the other eyelid and then move down the tear-track to hover over Draco’s lips. Harry didn’t move, nose-to-nose with Draco. The blond’s eyes opened and Harry could sense a slight annoyance from the boy before he leaned down and kissed Draco, coaxing his mouth open within a matter of seconds. Draco let out a pleased moan as Harry kissed him, feeling his soft hands stroking at his face gently.

After a minute or two of their usual kissing, Draco’s hands moved to Harry’s shoulders to squeeze the toned muscles there before moving down a lengthy torso to cup the brunet’s bum. Harry let out a squeak as Draco smirked into the kiss and then gripped Harry’s hips, pushing them down onto his own. Harry broke the kiss, lifting his head to gasp for air before he lowered his head once again and devoured Draco’s sensual mouth. They’d had a lot of practice with this – that was for certain.

“I’d hate to ruin the moment, but if you two could keep your hands to yourselves for perhaps an hour or two, I’ll let you reign havoc on the manor after the gift exchange,” came an amused voice from the door. Harry was the one who flung himself from Draco this time and they couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu when Narcissa appeared in the doorway again, but this time, her eyes were alit with merriment. Harry and Draco coughed and attempted to clean themselves up as they followed Mrs. Malfoy to the living room. Harry couldn’t believe that he’d left the door open!

Narcissa moved to her seat, beside Lucius, in a comfy looking armchair. A large, crackling fire warmed them from behind the grate and firebox. Beside the fireplace (Harry figured it must have been enchanted, somewhat) was a Christmas tree that stood so tall, it almost rivaled the ones at Hogwarts. Beneath it was a large collection of presents and Harry felt pleased that people knew him well enough to forward them to Malfoy Manor itself.

There was a throw rug near the hearth of the fireplace and Narcissa indicated for them to sit there while they distributed the gifts. Draco pulled Harry into his lap, like the many times before and levitated the many colourfully wrapped gifts closer. No one was surprised when Harry had gotten the largest pile, but Draco’s collection of Christmas presents seemed to be at large as well. Narcissa and Lucius watched their son and (hopefully future-son) his boyfriend unwrap their presents without restraint. To Draco’s secret delight, he’d been sent a sweater, hand-knitted by Molly Weasley in Slytherin green with a silver ‘D’ embroidered to the front. He put it on eagerly, much to the dismay of his parents, who still hadn’t gotten over the Weasley family yet, but were willing to tolerate them. Harry had gotten his own hand-knitted sweater and they continued to unwrap the gifts.

Hermione had actually gotten him a pretty interesting book, one that Harry vowed to read later, when he had the time. Ron had gotten him another broom self-maintenance set and Harry mentally said a word of thanks to his friend, because his old set had gotten…well…old. There was an assortment of things from the Weasley family and Harry was pleased to see that Draco had gotten something from them, including a box of exclusive Weasley Wizard Wheezes assortments, compliments of Fred and George. Ron had gotten Draco a weird looking item that caused Draco’s eyebrows to shoot up to his hairline (‘Wow’, were his exact words, but he didn’t elaborate any further) and Hermione had gotten him an excessively large tome that had caused Draco to actually let out a squeal of delight. His parents looked rather pleased with the book and Draco quickly explained to Harry that, despite his wealth, he’d never been able to get his hands on this particular volume. Harry laughed, but didn’t question him further. Harry thanked Lucius and Narcissa when they’d given him their gift, the newest broomstick that put all others to shame, from Lucius, and a box of home-made sweets and cakes from Narcissa that almost seemed to have an endless bottom (Harry feared he’d gain too much weight to be able to fly said broomstick if he ate all of Narcissa’s treats).

By the time it was their turn to exchange gifts, Harry was fidgeting nervously as Draco unwrapped his present and a large grin lit up the majority of his face.

“My parents were right in naming me Draco,” the blond laughed along with his parents as he showed them the pendant that Harry had commissioned for him. It must have cost Harry a lot, but Draco was stunned when he’d opened the box revealing the gift. “I love you, so much, Harry,” he told him, almost naturally as he put the pendant around his neck.

Harry merely smiled as Draco fished around in his pockets for Harry’s present. Draco had turned red and looked away in embarrassment as Harry gushed over the ring he’d gotten him.

“Draco, it’s…”

“Don’t you dare say girly,” Draco interjected with a nervous kind of smile. Harry laughed and threw his arms around Draco’s neck and clung onto him for a few seconds for good measure before Draco took the silver ring with a gold band in the centre and held it up for Harry to see the words engraved on the inside.

“To my Harry, I love you, always – Draco,” Harry read out loud, his cheeks growing red despite the sudden hoarseness of his voice. His heart had never beaten so fast in his life; he thought it would sprout legs and run a marathon without him. He seemed to almost choke on his words, his eyes brimming with tears as he slipped it onto his left ring finger, much to Draco’s surprise. “I love it.”

Lucius and Narcissa exchanged glances before they wisely left the room to give the boys their much needed ‘alone time’. All they could hear was the crackling of the fire and the steady beating of their hearts and breaths as they held each other, basking in the warm glow of the heat.

“About before,” Draco began, stoking Harry’s hair as he held him to his chest. “What you heard, I wasn’t referring to you. The ‘work’ I had to do with my dad was to rewrite the contract for my inheritance. Before you, I was going to be…arranged to marry a benefiter family to strengthen ties. Apparently, the guy I eventually got betrothed to actually got the hots for me and-”

Harry lifted his head from Draco’s chest and silenced him with a kiss. “Shh, Draco. Don’t worry. Don’t talk about them for now. They’re not important right now.”

Draco’s eyebrows almost tasted his fringe as Harry slid up his body and pinned him to the floor with an almost predatory smile. “Harry, I’d give you my everything.  They were never important to me in the first place. When you’re in love with someone…” Draco paused, trailing off, before he seemed to find the right words and said, “Love is not self-seeking. I really would give you everything I could ever possibly own. I’m sorry I seemed so selfish earlier on today-”

Harry stole Draco’s breath with another kiss and leaned his forehead against his boyfriend’s. Draco could feel the hair of their fringes meshed together as Harry seemed to breathe all of him in. He stared searchingly up into Harry’s emerald eyes, past the glinting lenses of his glasses. Draco removed them from Harry’s face and placed them with the presents, then reached up and kissed the lightning bolt scar that remained there as reminder of their past.

“If love is not self-seeking,” Harry began, leaning closer to Draco’s lips, but stopping short. Draco’s eyes implored Harry’s, his breath catching in his throat as Harry closed his eyes and let the words come to him. “Then I will be the most selfless person on this planet, if it means I can be with you. Happy Christmas, Draco.”

Words could not describe the way joy seemed to seep into Draco’s very bones at that moment, melting every fibre of his being. Words could not describe the way his heart had leapt to his throat and he let out a strangled cry as he held Harry and whispered the mantra of ‘I love you’ over and over again until Harry found himself believing the words without a doubt.

Believing, living, trusting and loving.


	9. Love is Not Easily Angered - Love Keeps No Record of Wrongs

“YOU GIT!” Harry screamed, lobbing a book angrily in Draco’s direction. He watched, in anger, as it missed the blond by a mile and felt something hit him square in the chest before his legs gave way to the Jelly-legs Jinx.

They had gotten into another argument three days after Christmas, about something, like in the beginning of their relationship, so trivial. Harry couldn’t even remember what it was and he didn’t bother to try and remember. All he knew was that the argument had escalated into a duel of sorts and it had taken Lucius to cast a powerful full-body bind on both of them before he declared them both grounded. Harry’s mouth dropped open in shock. _What?_ Grounded by Lucius Malfoy?!

So there he sat, in his bedroom, completely alone save for the book Hermione had given to him for Christmas as his only company. Damn Draco for having a computer all to himself. He lay in his bed for about half an hour or so before he decided to read the book. It was an interesting story and he’d gotten into it for about three hours of straight reading before a knock on the door brought him out of the spell the book seemed to cast over him (not literally).

“Come in,” he told whoever was on the other side. Draco walked in with a sheepish smile on his face, which was covered, Harry noticed, in flour and icing. In his hands he held a rather odd attempt at baking, but it looked delicious nevertheless. Harry figured that the words that were written shakily on the top were meant to say ‘I’m Sorry, Harry’, but he couldn’t fit the ‘y’ in Harry, so it had been squashed into the side.

A bright smile lit up Harry’s face as he grabbed the gift, set it aside and pulled Draco into his bed, absently waving his wand to lock the door this time.

* * *

 

“Love is not easily angered. I’m sorry, Harry,” Draco told him before he, and the cake, were devoured with much pleasure.

“YOU PRAT!” Harry screamed as he chucked a nearby pen (pathetic, yes, but convenient) at Draco’s backside. The blond gave him a furious glare before lobbing the pen back. “You always do that!”

Draco didn’t even know _what_ he’d done wrong and, in Harry’s mind, he didn’t know what Draco had done either. All he knew was that one moment, they were fine and sitting happily, chatting to each other, then Draco made some random comment (Harry couldn’t, for the life of him, remember what it was) and Harry ended up scowling.

“If it makes you so angry, then steer off the topic completely!” Draco bellowed back, his face red with anger. Harry let out a frustrated shout and started going off at Draco for previous trespasses. Draco’s mouth dropped open when Harry continued to rattle off all the things he’d done wrong from the very start of their relationship before he drew his wand and cast ‘silencio’ on Harry. It took Harry only two seconds to realize he’d been shut up before he too, drew his wand and the fireworks began.

Not that they weren’t used to it.

Again, Lucius had managed to appear in the room (how did he know that they were arguing? Was it a sort of sixth sense or something?!) and promptly expelled their wands from their hands, tied them together and cast silencing charms over both of them. He was absolutely livid; even Draco cowered in fear – and _he’d_ been living with Lucius all his life. Imagine how Harry felt; he was lucky he had enough self control to not wet his pants.

They’d only been grounded _yesterday_ for heaven’s sake!

Lucius untied them, and then promptly sent Draco away before he told Harry he was not permitted to see the blond until they had sorted themselves out. Harry agreed, although reluctantly. He didn’t want to admit it but he’d already missed him.

A while later, once Harry had cooled his temper, Draco Apparated into his room with a notepad and pen. Harry raised his eyebrows, wondering why on earth Draco was bringing such things around with him, before he realized that the silencing charm cast on Draco hadn’t been lifted yet.

Harry laughed as Draco scowled at him and wrote on the notepad, ‘ _Love keeps no record of wrongs. Please forgive me for all I’ve done wrong.’_

The apology felt almost childlike, but it made Harry’s heart swell with gladness. He smiled as he took the pen from Draco’s hand and wrote, ‘ _Forgiven_ ,’ underneath. Draco smiled back at him before he took the pen again and wrote, ‘ _So can we like…make out now?’_

Harry rolled his eyes and, waving his wand in Draco’s direction, said ‘Finite Incantatem’. The blond didn’t speak, but held his lips out expectantly. Harry grinned and pressed his lips to Draco’s.

“Of course we can.”


	10. Love is Measured by Infinity and Beyond

Two months.

Eight weeks.

Fifty-six days and two lovebirds later, found Harry and Draco back on the Hogwarts Express coming back to their enchanted school for the final term. Once the new term had started, they’d settled back into the old school routine, except this time, Harry was more open with his love for Draco. It might as well have been Valentines Day every day, with the way they were acting. It seemed even Snape had been affected by their affectionate attitude and he ended up cutting back on the amount of points he took in favour of giving. Of course, he still favoured Slytherin – some things would never change.

If the two were inseparable before, they were conjoined at the lips now. Everywhere they went, they seemed to be very much in love and didn’t resist to display it to others, and most importantly, to each other.

“How do you measure love?” Harry asked Draco out of the blue one day as they sat beneath their tree by the lake. Months had gone by and N.E.W.T exams loomed ahead, before their inevitable graduation. Draco lifted his head from Harry’s lap and shot him an inquisitive look. Harry grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. “I’m just wondering.”

“Is this going to turn into a sappy, chick-flick moment? If so, I suggest you warn me before hand so I can get out the big guns,” Draco wagged his eyebrows at his boyfriend playfully, causing Harry to blush and push him away despite the delighted beam on his face. Their eyes met and Draco knew that the question must have been plaguing Harry for a while now, so he sat down beside him, their shoulders only touching and answered as best as he could.

“I don’t know how you measure love, Harry,” he told him quietly. Harry felt his heart thump loudly in his chest, to the point where he could feel it in his throat, and hear it in his ears. Draco reached out and took his hand gently in his and leaned against the bark of the tree behind him. Harry heard the pause in Draco’s voice before the blond continued to speak. “It’s like happiness. You can’t measure happiness.”

Harry nodded and pulled his knees up to his chest, wondering if he’d be satisfied with the answer Draco would eventually give him. They sat in silence for a few moments and Harry thought that Draco had forgotten the question, totally eluding it, before the young man spoke again.

“But if you’re talking about us, I think I can measure it.”

Harry felt almost disappointed by that. He didn’t know why. Did he want a love that knew no boundaries? Before he knew it, Draco had pressed his lips to Harry’s again, and the whisper into Harry’s ear was almost inaudible.

“You measure love by infinity and beyond. That’s how much I know I love you.”

Harry didn’t speak as Draco embraced him and they sat together in silence, watching the rippling waters of the lake. Harry shifted in Draco’s arms and turned to face the blond, a determined look on his face.

Draco raised an eyebrow as Harry stood and sat between his knees before he pulled off his ring and handed it to him. Draco felt his heart sink immediately, but Harry held out his hand again expectantly.

“Let’s get married, Draco,” Harry told him. Draco couldn’t believe his eyes or ears. _What?_ Harry knew that Draco was processing this information. He wasn’t at all in doubt of the answer he would receive. Draco shakily held Harry’s hand and stared at the light patch where the ring had been before. He searched Harry’s eyes for a moment and saw complete faith in him. There was nothing more he could ask for – he already had his love.

“Will you, Harry James Potter, marry me, Draco Malfoy?” he asked, trusting his voice enough to speak. A grin spread like wildfire across Harry’s face and he nodded. Draco’s lip quirked when he saw tears pool in Harry’s eyes before he replaced the ring onto Harry’s finger again. Harry searched his pockets for a second before he pulled Draco’s hand to him and showed him a ring that was identical.

‘ _Draco, all my love, for all my life – Harry’_ , was engraved into the silver. Draco couldn’t help himself and he let out a choked sob as Harry placed the ring onto the same finger and the two held each other, in silence for minutes. Harry didn’t say a word as he rested his head on Draco’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeat there. This was safe. This was home. This was Draco. This was love.

“When?” Harry finally asked into Draco’s shirt when the initial shock and excitement had finally worn off. A nervous buzz flitted across Harry’s chest. This must have been what engagement felt like! Draco’s eyebrow shot up as Harry lifted his head and repeated the question. “When do we get married?”

Draco thought long and hard. He wanted to get married as soon as possible, but he didn’t want the thought of it to put pressure on Harry, especially during a crucial time of their school career. Harry looked almost anxious as he waited for the answer. Draco took his chin in his hand and lifted Harry’s face to meet his.

“A year.”

“A year?” Harry echoed, looking slightly disappointed. Draco smiled at the expected reaction and explained to him why he felt a year was the best. Harry eventually accepted this and settled down in between Draco’s legs, his back to his boyfriend as he watched the sun drift lazily in the sky, closer and closer to earth. “How do you measure a year?”

“Are you trying to catch me off guard, or something?” Draco asked laughingly as he pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead. Harry chuckled along with him and then asked the question again. Draco didn’t have to think long before he thought he found a suitable answer.

“12 months.”

“Oh?”

Draco didn’t stop there. “12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days. 525, 600 minutes.”

Harry socked him playfully in the arm and grinned. “I told you that you’d be brilliant at math.”

Draco nodded absently as they lapsed into a soothing silence, broken only by the chirping of birds and the rustling of trees. Harry shivered and snuggled into Draco’s arms. “Is that the only way you can measure a year?”

There was a pause, before Draco answered, “No. You can measure a year in love.”

“Love?”

“Yep. I love you to infinity and beyond,” Draco told him solemnly, but Harry couldn’t keep the joyous smile that was on his face. “And I have infinity and beyond to show you exactly now long that is.”

Harry’s breath caught in his throat as the same sad smile appeared on Draco’s face and he couldn’t help but wonder why such an expression would appear at a time like this. There was a pause before Draco finally asked a question of his own.

“So what have you learned?”

It was so sudden that Harry had to double take and he nearly head-butted Draco in the process. He blinked innocent eyes back at Draco, but the expression there was still serious, still solemn. Then it suddenly hit him.

* * *

 

_“No. There isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. There wasn’t an ‘us’ to begin with, Draco! It was all a mistake from the very start. You don’t love me. I don’t have the patience for you. What would you know about love, Draco?” he spat bitterly._

_There was a tense pause between them before Draco gave him a sorrowful smile and murmured, “Love is patient. Let’s start with that.”_

* * *

 

_“You’ve been tense all week and I can’t help but feel that I’m a huge contributor to your stress,” Draco finally said. Harry felt a stab of guilt prick his insides, especially when Draco glanced over his shoulder, and, again with that sad smile, said, “And after all, love is kind.”_

* * *

 

_With the curtains drawn around them and Draco fitted snuggly behind him, Harry felt himself as comfortable as if he were in his own bed. Just before he drifted off to sleep with a smile of his face, he heard Draco whisper, “Love does not boast. But we can give them something to talk about for a while…”_

* * *

 

_“Love is not proud, Harry. So I’m glad you’re able to tell me this. You may not be in love with me,” Draco paused, then leaned down and captured Harry’s lips in a chaste lock, “But you’re getting there.”_

_Strangely enough, Harry didn’t feel intimidated by Draco’s words. In fact…_

_He was rather comforted that he could believe them._

* * *

 

_“Love does not_ _dishonour others, mother. If you were ashamed of the relationship between Harry and me, I would have left. That is the truth,” Draco told her solemnly. Narcissa finally nodded and Draco helped her up. She took shaky steps towards Harry, and for a moment, he thought she would have slapped him. But no feeling could have described the happiness he felt when she wrapped her arms around him and embraced him like a mother would her son._

* * *

 

_Draco’s eyebrows almost tasted his fringe as Harry slid up his body and pinned him to the floor with an almost predatory smile. “Harry, I’d give you my everything.  They were never important to me in the first place. When you’re in love with someone…” Draco paused, trailing off, before he seemed to find the right words and said, “Love is not self-seeking. I really would give you everything I could ever possibly own. I’m sorry I seemed so selfish earlier on today-”_

* * *

 

_“Love is not easily angered. I’m sorry, Harry,” Draco told him before he, and the cake, were devoured with much pleasure._

* * *

 

_Harry laughed as Draco scowled at him and wrote on the notepad, ‘Love keeps no record of wrongs. Please forgive me for all I’ve done wrong.’_

_The apology felt almost childlike, but it made Harry’s heart swell with gladness. He smiled as he took the pen from Draco’s hand and wrote, ‘Forgiven,’ underneath. Draco smiled back at him before he took the pen again and wrote, ‘So can we like…make out now?’_

* * *

 

All this time, Draco had been teaching _him_ how to love, when Harry had doubted him from the very start. Harry felt sudden and unexpected tears brimming in his eyes and upon seeing the look in Draco’s eyes, he felt a strange sort of acceptance. Draco’s hands cupped Harry’s chin and pulled him backwards to plant a kiss on his lips.

“What have you learned?” he repeated, so softly that Harry probably wouldn’t have heard him if he weren’t so close. Harry closed his eyes and found the words that he knew had been laying there. He grasped hold of them before they could evade him and said them as they came to him.

“Love is Patient; Love is Kind; It does not envy; It does not boast; It is not proud; It does not dishonour others; It is not self-seeking; It is not easily angered; It keeps no record of wrongs,” Harry stopped and managed to shift himself around so he was facing Draco. He held his hands up and felt Draco’s fingers entwined with his own. The rings on their fingers glinted and Harry felt his heart swell again. But he did not stop there. “Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

“I never told you that last part,” Draco whispered, their foreheads pressed comfortingly against each other. Harry smiled and leaned in closer.

When their lips were a hair’s breadth away, he murmured, “Yes you did. From start to finish, they’ve always been there. You just didn’t need to point them out.”

“So do you think that I know how to love?” Draco asked the final question, watching Harry’s face carefully. Harry smiled, confident he knew the answer now. “Because I do love you, Harry,” he added as an afterthought.

“I think, I know and I believe. I love you, Draco. It was you taught me how to love, instead.”


	11. Epilogue

It had been roughly one year since Harry and Draco had gotten engaged. As promised, the two were happily married and lived together in a reasonably sized home on the Malfoy Estate, just a few minutes away from the Manor. The Malfoy’s were fine with not having the event publicized and had only given The Quibbler an exclusive interview. Years of experience had taught both Harry and Draco that The Daily Prophet, despite been a well-marketed newspaper, tended to put a biased spin in whatever they wrote about Harry and Draco. The brunet guessed that they might have actually mentioned Draco’s history and the Malfoy’s association with Voldemort. He didn’t even have to get started on what they might have talked about him.

The year had not been smooth sailing. With Harry’s temper and Draco’s ability at being annoying at times, they often found themselves at each other’s throats yet again. On many occasions, Draco ended up sleeping on the couch, sometimes of his own decision, sometimes by force of Harry. Once or twice, Draco had said something that had caused Harry to not speak to him for weeks on end, but they got over it soon enough and were even more passionately in love. After all, absence, as they say, makes the heart grow fonder, and Harry had missed Draco indeed.

Currently, Harry and Draco Potter-Malfoy were enjoying the mid-Spring weather, after the winter solstice had moved on. The snow had melted away once sunlight and warmth became a dominant aspect of the weather. As promised the year before, Draco had taken Harry back to Malfoy Manor to see the garden that Narcissa loved.

Harry had been in absolute awe at the beauty of it. The variety of flowers ranged from lilac and orange cosmos to marigold, morning glory and zinnia to sunflowers and honeysuckle. Draco had blindfolded him (Harry rolled his eyes at the cheesiness of the situation), but he found himself delighted when Draco had held him, still blindfolded, whispered that he loved him in his ear and then promptly removed the cloth covering his eyes. Harry’s mouth had literally dropped.

In the centre of the greens and the explosive variety of colours was a large fountain, with marble angels that were charmed to float above the surface and spout streams of crystalline water into the pool below. There were also the usual albino peacocks that roamed about, and Harry was able to admire the sheer beauty of the graceful creatures. Draco brought him over to one and Harry allowed himself to touch the beautiful birds.

“Come, love,” Draco purred in his ear, causing Harry to shiver. Draco wrapped an arm around his waist and led him towards the fountain. Once they arrived, Draco waved his wand and the concealment spell disappeared. Harry felt his knees buckle when he sighted the blanket and picnic basket that were revealed.

“Draco…” Harry began as he was tugged down atop Draco’s lap. He allowed himself to be pulled into his husband’s gentle embrace as the blond pulled the basket closer. Draco peppered kisses to the side of his neck as he unlatched the lid and opened it. Harry pulled away to peer into the basket. A niggling feeling told him that it was obviously charmed. “What’s for lunch, dear?”

Draco chuckled warmly and pulled out plates, cups and cutlery first. Harry moved to sit beside him as more food was revealed – sandwiches, pastries, muggle crisps and many wizarding favourites, such as Pumpkin Pasties and Cauldron Cakes. A bottle of butterbeer was pulled out as well as some pumpkin juice. Draco filled their plates and signaled for Harry to start eating.

Harry bit into a sandwich and was delighted by the taste. He commented on it and, upon seeing his husband’s cheeks flush, realized that Draco had been the one to make this all. “You seriously made all this?”

Draco pouted. “Why not?”

Harry laughed and pecked him on the cheek. “Well, if I remember correctly, the first time you cooked something for me, which was actually that ‘Sorry, Harry’ cake, it looked rather…” Harry trailed off, hinting to Draco what he meant. Draco rolled his eyes and punched him gently on the shoulder.

“Well, if _I_ remember correctly, _YOU_ devoured it just as passionately as you devoured me,” Draco chuckled when Harry flushed pink. They sat in companionable silence as they ate, occasionally breaking it to make small talk. Harry continued to admire the garden from where he sat, listening to the singing of birds and the gentle trickle of the water in the fountain. He’d never breathed in air that was so fragrantly sweet, yet at the same time so clear. It was very refreshing. Harry drank a few cups of pumpkin juice before opting for some butterbeer.

He settled himself in Draco’s lap and leaned comfortably against his husband’s chest. Draco’s chin rested upon his head and when he spoke, Harry could feel the slightly pointed chin bop up and down against his crown.

“Harry, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Draco began, moving his head to rest in the junction of Harry’s neck. The brunet nodded. He knew exactly what Draco had been wanting to ask. Briefly, his mind flitted back to their first month of dating and the incident with the seventh years Gryffindors. His cheeks flushed at the memory, and then deepened when he realized what Draco now wanted.

“What is it?” Harry whispered, feeling soft lips press against his temple. He waited patiently while Draco shuffled about, obviously uncomfortable. Did he not feel confident in asking Harry? “Draco?”

Draco didn’t answer and seemed content to just hold Harry in his arms. Harry allowed his eyes to drift shut and he dozed lightly in Draco’s embrace for an afternoon nap. By the time he had woke up, Draco was watching him intently, stroking his face and running a soothing hand through his hair. Harry felt lulled into a daze, his eyes drifting shut again.

“Draco? What did you want to tell me?” Harry asked groggily as he leaned into Draco’s touch. Draco’s hand stopped and Harry knew that it went into his own blond locks, probably in frustration.

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding crude…” Draco mumbled, a faint blush on his cheeks. That snapped Harry out of his trance and he leaned up on his forearms, grinning. Draco saw this and rolled his eyes, his lips twisting into a wry kind of smile. “Then again, I’m a Slytherin and _you’re_ the Gryffindor. None of us are Hufflepuffs, so I might as well get this over and done with, right?”

Harry nodded eagerly, his grin widening. Draco sighed and shook his head, his grey eyes glittering in a maddening sort of way. Harry watched as Draco flushed again. It couldn’t have been an odd request, right? Draco had his ‘sexual prowess’ and reputation, Harry understood that, so why was he having such a hard time asking? It was just something he felt that he knew Draco would ask of him, so he’d already braced himself for the question.

In fact, the thought of consummating their relationship had been running through Harry’s mind for the past month or so, and even before then, Harry had had dreams of Draco, of doing things with Draco. And they rarely went away. He felt dirty, at first, but eventually, Harry came to accept that he was lusting after his fiancé, no problem there. And now that they were married, he didn’t see what the problem was in claiming what was a right to him. To the both of them.  He watched Draco shift uncomfortably yet again. Draco was usually very still, so for him to fidget like this, must have been indicative of his frantic nerves.

“I…I…” Draco, despite what was previously said, felt really dirty having to ask Harry this, but really…

Harry shook his head with a soft smile on his face and placed a warm hand on Draco’s arm. “Draco, I just want to let you know that _I’m_ ready. So if you aren’t, I’ll be willing to wait.”

This caused Draco to splutter in surprise, his alabaster cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. Harry likened him to being sun-burnt, only not as ugly. Draco stilled and finally, a proper reaction, he nodded. Harry grinned, bolted up and then ran to the fountain.

“Harry what are you- gah!” Draco shouted as Harry cupped his hand into the fountain and splashed the water onto Draco. His blond-haired husband glared playfully from where he sat before suddenly disappearing with a loud crack. Harry blinked before he heard another crack and then a splash. Before he knew it, he felt arms wrap around his waist and was promptly tossed backwards into the fountain. He let out a disgruntled ‘oof’ as he landed and shivered when the cold water soaked his clothes and cooled his heated skin. Draco sat atop him, a large grin spread across his face. Harry smiled as he sat up and wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck.

“You should smile a lot more often,” Harry murmured; the smile on his lips still remained when he kissed Draco soundly.

And now, he told himself, I really **_do_** understand why I gave him a chance in the first place. I love him.

LOVE is a happy thing.  
It makes us laugh.  
It makes us sing.  
It makes us sad.  
It makes us cry.  
It makes us seek the reason why.  
It makes us take.  
It makes us give.  
Above all else it makes us LIVE.

** The End! **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first completed multi-chaptered story. granted, every chapter was short and could have fit into one big one-shot but... *shrugs*
> 
> The quote at the end is not mine. I had a reference link for it, but that link has since become obsolete. If you have seen this quote and know the original author, please let me know so I can acknowledge them.


End file.
